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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23313094">DJ Got Me Fallin' in Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaiofSunshine/pseuds/RaiofSunshine'>RaiofSunshine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is a Radio Host, Alastor's Microphone Has an Attitude, Angsty Alastor, Cannibalism, Demisexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Denial, Fluff, M/M, Oblivious Alastor, Shitlord Vox, Song Lyrics, Violence, Weeblord Velvet, Wingman Husk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:56:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,916</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23313094</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaiofSunshine/pseuds/RaiofSunshine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentino has 99 problems and a charming deer demon is at least a handful of them. What's a bawdy overlord to do?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alastor/Valentino (Hazbin Hotel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>218</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>356</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Gunshot on the Floor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntingPeople/gifts">HuntingPeople</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/coockie8/gifts">coockie8</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've never formally written fanfiction before, but this is one of the rarer ships I enjoy thanks to two amazing fic writers. Please enjoy my first go at writing on a public level!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The incessant drumming of a claw on mahogany filled the vibrantly colored office. A sound tinged with irritation as the owner of the disturbance glared down at his phone screen. </p><p>Valentino had overheard some of his actors murmuring with one another about the Radio Demon's latest broadcastings. It seemed the wicked deer was recently having a generous streak, answering song requests that sinners would call into the radio tower. He briefly wondered if it had to do with the notorious cannibal's surprising involvement in the princess' new project.</p><p>So far not a single song had been claimed to be turned down despite Alastor's old fashioned preferences. Be it the screechiest metal ballad or the most dreadfully mundane pop hit, the demon would play it then typically provide some scathing commentary on how low music has come in recent decades, before moving onto his own usual choice for the next song.</p><p>And so brought about Valentino's current predicament. What the fuck was he going to request? His mouth turned up in a snarl as his claw busied itself with scrolling through his hellphone's list of music.</p><p>He wanted a song that would leave an impression on the crimson sinner. Something that maybe, just maybe, would make that cold heart twitch in its confines. There wasn't a shred of doubt that the deer would have some clue as to who the caller was, so he wanted his choice to be absolutely perfect.</p><p>While Alastor's voice could be easily distinguished, even with an earful of wax and cotton, Valentino had bountiful pride in the knowledge that his smooth and deep rumble could make the most dignified aristocrat crawl on their knees for his attention. Some might think him cocky if he boasted it aloud, but there were more than a few occasions when Vox had decided to give him a call while one of Hell's upper class was being thoroughly debauched. Of course, that might've remained underwraps if Valentino actually cared about the demons he invited to bed or wherever he felt like relieving some stress. Running an industry in Hell while managing turf put his nerves through the ringer.</p><p>It didn't matter how many warm bodies he spilled his seed into though, because that's all they were to him. Playthings he used to get off and nothing more. The Radio Demon, however, was something else. A pristinely polished and precision cut ruby confined away behind thick glass that begged for him to take it for his own before anyone else could.</p><p>From the tips of his antlers and seemingly soft ears, down the lanky yet enticing frame, and even to the bottom of his fancy footwear (marked with hoof prints no less), Valentino found not a single flaw in the demon's appearance. It wasn't just Alastor's aesthetic that did it for him either. The overlord was nothing if not a moth of fine taste, and the deer was a buffet of delicacies in harmonized, mouth-watering flavors. The strength and power to overthrow demons at the snap of his fingers and invoke fear at his presence. A voice that made Valentino want to murder a hundred sinners just to hear it moaning beneath him even once. And, though he was reluctant to admit what a sucker he was for the Radio Demon, a smile that he wanted to see filled with genuine fondness in his company.</p><p>After what felt like a century of searching and scrolling through his app, his snarled mouth finally gave way to spread in what could be considered a lopsided grin. His claw hovered over the song as a hearty chuckle bubbled up from his throat. Vox would laugh him out of his own office if he found out what he was about to do, but so be it. The opportunity was there on a platter and Valentino was going to serve it to the cannibal as a rare treat to whet his appetite.</p><p>He turned the radio on his desk back on after he had shut it off to focus on his mission. The lively jazz music playing was turned down with an even bigger grin from the moth demon. <br/>
  <br/>
"Good"-he crossed one spindly leg over the other- "he hasn't moved onto the next request yet."</p><p>He went through his contacts until he found the number of the landline Alastor used for the tower under 'Radio Star' in his phone. Vox found that inside joke of his particularly funny, but would likely scowl if he knew the connotations it carried for his sex-addicted amigo. Pressing the call symbol, it gave six exact rings before that sweet transatlantic accent came over the phone.</p><p>"This is Hell's foremost radio host speaking! What can I play for your sad, little soul today?" he asked without a hint of sincere interest.</p><p>"I got somethin' I think even ya might like, if ya don't mind playin' it that is," he drawled a tad teasingly. There was a momentary pause as Alastor pieced together the caller's identity, followed by an exaggerated sigh.</p><p>"And what is it you'd like to request, my lascivious fellow overlord? I'm afraid clips from pornography are in bad taste and not actual 'music to one's ears' if you're trying for that route!" The barest hint of annoyance laced his attempt to insult Valentino.</p><p>Valentino let out a mock gasp, "ya think so little of me? I got a real nice song I want to hear from our foremost radio host. Even ya might enjoy it." The responding noise of disbelief made him picture those bright and sinister eyes rolling around in their socket, making him snicker under his breath.</p><p>"While I don't see what game you're playing, I've been in a rather giving mood as of late. Don't ruin that with this selection. Hurry up and spit it out." Alastor hummed in acknowledgement as he wrote down the song title and artist that was given to him, clearly not recognizing it or truly caring so long as it was a song. The call ended abruptly after he confirmed the information, but Valentino's grin couldn't be contained as he turned his radio back up as loud as he could tolerate and sat back to enjoy.</p><p>The jazz gave way to the demonic host's voice as he transitioned the music from one song to the next seamlessly, "Alright then, not-so-gentle sinners! This next request is one I'm told I'll enjoy. Probably not, but onwards we go!"</p><p>
  <em>In the heart</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of the night</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When it's dark</em><br/>
<br/>
<em>In the lights</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I heard the loudest noise</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A gunshot on the floor</em>
</p><p>Valentino's heel bounced on his leg to the beat as he imagined the demon's confusion growing in his studio. It wasn't the best kept secret that Alastor hunted topside before his death. At least not when Vox had overheard a drunken Mimzy proclaim that the deer was as good with a gun as he was with voodoo.</p><p>
  <em>I looked down</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And my shirt's turning red</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm spinning around</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Felt her lips on my neck</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And her voice</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In my ear</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Like I missed you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Want you tonight</em>
</p><p>The vibe of the song picked up at the same time as the moth demon's mood. He was humming along, anticipation expanding as the chorus rounded the bend.</p><p>
  <em>Straight through my heart</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A single bullet got me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can't stop the bleeding (oh oh)</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Straight through my heart</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She aimed and she shot me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I just can't believe it (oh oh)</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No I can't resist</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I can't be hit</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I just can't escape this love</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Straight through my heart</em>
</p><p>
  <em>(Soldier down) my heart</em>
</p><p>
  <em>(Soldier down) my heart-</em>
</p><p>He sat upright when the broadcast was promptly cut off, his heart threatening to pound its way out of his chest.</p><p>"Terribly sorry about that, denizens of Hell! There appears to be some technical difficulties I must take care of, so I bid you all 'adieu' for the time being!" With that the station went dead silent as Valentino's palms slammed onto his desk with fervor.</p><p>It appeared that Alastor had gotten the message loud and clear. The hunt was on.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>~The song used is "Straight Through My Heart" by Backstreet Boys~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Wingmen Whether They'd Like to Be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which two foul-mouthed demons make an appearance and one deer gets caught in the headlights.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A combination of positive feedback, a day off in my usual self-isolation, and the urge to keep this fire burning had me typing up another chapter quicker than last. Thank you all so much for stopping by and reading as well as leaving kudos and comments! It means so much to my newbie heart!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Valentino had decided that moment that he hated Vox's laugh more than anything right now. The TV headed jackass was bent over his chair, wheezing and sputtering, as he failed to keep himself together. He was sincerely regretting that he had told his partner in crime anything.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fucking-fucking shit!" Vox slapped his knee, having a riot at the moth's expense. "Fucking Backstreet Boys?! You fucking chose those shit-eaters over literally anyone else?!" His screen changed into a hysterically laughing emoji as he leaned back and clutched at his ribs. Valentino bit back the urge to huck a paperweight at the hard-to-miss head when he glanced at the clock to see that twenty minutes had passed since Vox's fit started up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ya done yet? It would be nice to be doin' somethin' more, oh I dunno, constructive with my time instead of listenin' to ya ass makin' stupid static noises," he growled out as his patience was spread thinner.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Vox attempted to take a few deep breaths while holding up his hands as a show of mercy. "You can't blame me for fucking laughing at that bullshit! I mean, c'mon...did you at least give Swifty a thought?!" His voice cracked as he lost it again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The moth demon banged his head roughly on his desk, praying that maybe Biggie Talls upstairs would have some pity and take out Vox in front of him. He was feeling higher than four lines of booger sugar after Alastor reacted to his confession. That is until VHDumb burst into his office to tell him about the, 'pathetic sap that got the Vaudeville hook before the song hardly started'. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tapped away at the wood, wearing dents into the desk with the amount of force he used. A few more minutes and Vox was back in high definition as he lounged in his favorite chair.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So"-he swiveled the chair with one leg absently as he smirked-"you down to clown with Red and Dusty? Gonna give him the Mario Special?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino could feel the furrow in his brow knit itself a ball of confusion. "A fuckin' what now?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Vox snickered like television static, "Mario's a plumber? Laying some pipe? Forget it, it's fucking funny."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Whatever ya say, Fox Boos. But naw, I mean ye I'm hopin' to, but I ain't stupid. Wanna actually," he trailed off for a brief moment in preparation for more obnoxious harassment, "court him. Wine and dine, that kinda shit." Valentino pulled the brim of his hat down a fraction so he didn't have to see Vox.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh shit...oh shit, for real? You're not fucking with me? Well ding dong," his voice rose like he was getting ready to host the next showcase for Price is Right, "the bitch just got a fucking wingman!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino sat back to gape at the idiot scrambling out of his chair. "Ya gonna help me? Ya not like...mad or some shit?" his tone flattened from the whiplash at how quick he gained an ally. A less-than-deer-friendly one at that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I mean, ignoring the fact it's venison on the menu, I'm happy to see you give a fuck about something other than work and drugs." He shrugged as high as his shoulders could go without hitting his screen. "Gotta admit, you were getting as repetitive as a hospital drama there."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino snorted at the thinly veiled jab. He could admit though, at least to himself, that the same shit day in and day out was getting old. His office chair squeaked as he got up to unwind his tense muscles and shake out any remaining post-confession jitters. "Aight then, let's go get plastered and talk battle plans."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~    ~    ~    ~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Every few seconds of silence was punctuated by the harsh pound of metal on the radio tower's floor. The studio was lit only by the seething red emitting from the deer demon's eyes as he sat in the dark, rhythmically bringing his staff down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>That vile insect dared to humiliate HIM in his own jurisdiction? Just who did he think himself to be, Charlie Chaplin?</span> <span>He'd have to do something to show that lubricant-wielding lowlife just what happens to those who cross him.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a flick of his fingers, a myriad of symbols scattered across the ceiling. A red portal opening up before unceremoniously dropping a heap of fluff and feathers at Alastor's feet. He gave the form a nudge with the tip of his shoe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Husker, my friend, I am in need of your services at once!" The demon stepped back out of striking range as he knew the feathery cat would have an extra helping of grump over how he was brought over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What the fuck?! Ya couldn't just pop into the hotel, like a fucking normal person?!" The lump gathered himself up with a surly hiss, cracking his joints into place after the rough landing. Alastor only gave him an expression that told him it just wasn't an option to go all the way there when he can bring Husk to him lickety-split. He brushed off his fur while he let out a defeated sigh. "Fine, the fuck ya want then?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I had simply been curious if you knew what sort of poison Angel Dust's dear pimp preferred to drink?" The off kilter way his grin twitched made Husk believe that he wasn't only talking about alcohol.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck he do to ya? Offer ya a job at the studi-OH! Oi!" He had barely managed to duck the swinging mic staff aimed for the top of his head, earning him a narrowed crimson glare.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor motioned for the lights to turn back on in the studio as he talked, "if you must know, he made the ill choice to interfere with my generous gift to liven up Hell, as dear Charlie suggested."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The cat demon took notice of the equipment in the room as he glanced around. He thought the radio host had said on the broadcast there were technical difficulties, but it looked like an excuse to cut the music early. "Huh, that last song was from him? Yeesh, didn't take him to be so fucking cheesy."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor stopped in the middle of conjuring up some light snacks to nibble on while he planned the moth's demise. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Excusez-moi</span>
  </em>
  <span>? He was being an insufferable worm to get under my skin!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I mean, pretty sure he wants to get under something alright. It just ain't ya skin." The demon leaned backwards, eyes shut tight, as he waited for a mic staff or tentacle to lash out at him for his comment. When nothing happened he hesitantly continued, "There's a lot worse songs he coulda had ya play is all I'm getting at. Instead he basically sends ya a teenage love bop? Doesn't smell like humiliation from where I'm standing. Least not yours." The silence was starting to grate on his nerves after being dropped here without a lick of booze, so he opened one eye. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There in the middle of the studio, one of the most feared demons in Hell stood with a single deadly hand unsuccessfully hiding the flush creeping up on his cheeks. His eyes like dinner plates as the feline's words sunk into his frozen heart...making a few drops of liquid roll off the warmed organ.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And the people of Whoville say the Radio Demon's heart got a little warmer that day...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. You're Crazy & I'm Out of My Mind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The victims are piling up on Valentino's desk as he tries to set his plan in motion, but it's true as they say, 'it's hard out here for a pimp'.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Back again so soon? Well I'd like you to know that I'm planning to keep this going with a tentative schedule of a chapter every Tuesday &amp; Friday! Enjoy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Crumpled balls of paper were strewn about the desk as the notepad murderer himself sat hunched over the other potential victims. The pen he wielded in one upper claw was waggled between two digits, while in the opposite lower claw he searched his hellphone's music slowly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Too strong...too strong...shit, he'd pull my spine out if I did that one!" Valentino grimaced even as his MVP down below twitched at the thought. He growled in frustration at his lap, "don't need ya opinion right now."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was starting to think that all those tequila shots he threw back the night before made this sound easier than it was. Vox had suggested to stay as far from lewd songs as he could, but what the fuck was he supposed to do if that was half his personal collection?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Starting slow was about as simple as organizing an orgy porno. Everytime he thought he had a good playlist going, he'd second guess a song's meaning and redo the whole thing. For the first time, he was getting pissed at how many sexy songs weren't about something other than getting down and dirty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He checked his clock only to get backhanded by the fact he'd already been at this for an hour. All he had to show for it were the fallen comrades of his notepad atop the desk and the untouched papers that had no clue what their fate would be. The temptation to pull out his hair was there, but a key part of the formula was sure as fuck missing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His chair whined in protest when he got up. Maybe a change of scenery would do him some good. He turned to look out the floor-to-ceiling window at the hellscape below. Many of the buildings in the city were too small to reach the level of his penthouse office, but a couple miles away there was one that was pretty close. The radio tower felt like it was mocking his attempt to make some progress with the deer who would be inside of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The glass was fogged as his heavy sigh hit it. He knew he was putting too much pressure on himself to make the playlist perfect. He knew, but that didn't stop the groan forming in his throat. Just one song. He wanted at least one to start with then he could build from there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pictured the Radio Demon, sitting in his studio with as little care for the world as usual. He must look less formal when he's in his element, right? Did he put his hair up to keep it out of his face while he worked? The very image of Alastor with a small ponytail, his slender neck revealed, as he gestured to an invisible audience did funny things to his stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The butterflies multiplied tenfold when he placed himself in the picture. His digits tingled as he imagined rubbing the tension out of that neck, focusing his thumbs on the muscles along the beginning of his spine. He'd heard through the grapevine that the deer was fond of cooking, but a growing part of him wanted to feed the gentledeer his own cooking. Mentally kicking himself, he cursed that he hadn't paid more attention when his mamí taught him to cook.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His gaze focused back on the tower in the distance before he passed his phone to an upper claw. He just needed one song to get the ball rolling for the rest to fall into place and now he knew what fit his needs just right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~    ~    ~   ~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A chill went down his spine and an ear flicked as Alastor talked into his mic, announcing the next song of his own choosing. Was someone talking about him out there? Hopefully some poor fool quaking in their trousers at the mention of his name. Perhaps even wailing at the loss of some life he extinguished in one of his past rampages. But his gut was telling him it might not even be negative. Or rather, the moths taking residence where they didn't belong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How he had let Husk convince him of such nonsense was beyond him. Valentino was no more capable of lovesickness than he was. The pimp was a pervert just trying to get a rise out of him and he would not have it. And if someone asked why he had played that song a dozen times to himself, then he'd say it was to fuel his hunger for revenge. Obviously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned back in his seat with a heavy sigh, freeing his hair from the band holding it up. He gave the blood-colored tresses a shake to loosen them up and try to ease the headache beginning. His shadow suddenly perked before going to the studio window, waving its arms enthusiastically to try and get his attention. Just as he turned to address its excitement, the landline started ringing. Ah, another sinner calling to hear their favorite auditory lump of feces on his station.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why greetings, hellion! What would you like me to play?" he answered nonchalantly before the other voice came through. Oh dear. How he dreaded hearing that honey-sweet rumble so soon. He ignored the wild flapping of moths in his center in favor of keeping his voice indifferent as he wrote on his tracklist notebook, "I am sure my equipment can handle it this time, thank you for inquiring."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes at the other demon's gall only to catch sight of his shadow pointing out the window. Holding up a single finger, he confirmed what he had written down then put the phone back on the hook. The swing music was already nearing its finale when he turned his mic on to transition the songs, "That folks was a fun little number that was popular back in my day! Now, time for the next request!" The handy magical staff glowed with red as he whispered the next song it would broadcast, the glow moving from the mic and into the equipment he used to host the station.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Getting up from his chair, he strolled to see what his shadow was so excited to show him. His narrowed eyes were directed to the tallest building in the area as his shadow motioned to the tippy top. He squinted his eyes further before they opened wide with surprise. Even from such a distance, it was difficult to mistake the tacky coat's colors soaking up the afternoon light. His ears perked up in attention as the music began to fill his studio.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What would I do without your smart mouth</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Drawing me in, and you kicking me out</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What's going on in that beautiful mind</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm on your magical mystery ride</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My head's under water</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I'm breathing fine</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You're crazy and I'm out of my mind</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The velvety ears backed down in response to the smooth melody. Another love song was it? Well, it was going to take a lot more than saccharine words to sway this deer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Cause all of me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Loves all of you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Love your curves and all your edges</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All your perfect imperfections</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Give your all to me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'll give my all to you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You're my end and my beginning</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Even when I lose I'm winning</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Cause I give you all of me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And you give me all of you, oh oh</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or perhaps not...judging by the way his nerves were jumbling up inside him. And where was that annoyingly giddy sound coming from? He glanced around, only to see his shadow staring at him. It couldn't be? Reaching up to his grinning smile, he could feel that yes, that obnoxious giggle was coming from none other than himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How many times do I have to tell you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Even when you're crying you're beautiful too</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The world is beating you down, I'm around through every mood</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You're my downfall, you're my muse</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can't stop singing, it's ringing, in my head for you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh how he wanted to go and unhook every cord he could before the song tainted his precious quarters with its sappiness. But, he knew he couldn't get away with it again or the moth would be made aware he had been bothered in some way. So instead, he stood there staring at the vague shape of the demon until he was no longer at the distant window. Until the song was over and his mic played one of his usuals. Until a caller finally broke him of his trance, forcing him to continue about his work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And if he might've circled the song on his notebook to look up in private, then who was there to make judgements?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>~The song used is "All of Me" by John Legend~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Situation Rooms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Husk is enjoying this predicament more than Alastor cares for, but lucky for the deer that he doesn't have a Penta-gram.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Working on a schedule has been so nice to keep me from burning out, but believe me when I say it takes a lot of restraint not to post early!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>With a firm thud, the heavy bottle of whiskey was set onto the bar as the antique grandfather clock chimed twelve times in the room. Husk's tail was swishing with impatience as he rested his chin on his propped up paw. He knew what was coming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the next day started up, his ears perked up at each song that was called in. He had a feeling that if that pimp was even remotely serious, he'd be trying another attempt before the day was over. The others had even taken notice of how much attention he gave the music. Charlie had made an excited comment about how great it was that Husk was taking an interest in Alastor's hobby. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If the princess only knew what he was actually listening to- or rather for, he'd have no doubt her eyes would get all sparkly like those anime girls. 'A real life love story in the making?!' He imagined her squealing out, probably bouncing faster than even demonically possible. That made him chuckle just a little bit. His musings were interrupted by the tell-tale static that came from the shadows in the corner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>HUSKER, MY FRIEND</span>
  </em>
  <span>." The voice hissed sinisterly before Alastor finally materialized from the darkest part of the room. Husk's fur stood on end in response to the cold chill that went up his spine, but when he finally got a good look at the demon he failed to bite back a snort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor appeared to have been run ragged and hung out to dry. His typically smooth hair was mussed up like he'd been pulling at it and running his hands through it non-stop. The sleeves of his jackets had been shoved up to his elbows to reveal skin reddened by friction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Woah, the fuck ya do? Ya look like fucking shit, Al." He kept his hands busy by grabbing a couple of glasses off the shelf then plucking a bottle of cabernet sauvignon from the collection. Before he could start to pour it, the deer's shadow snatched it from him and brought it to Alastor. "Oi! Least give the pretense of fucking asking!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor stared him down unblinkingly as he had his shadow remove the cork. He took a deep chug the second it was off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Damn, didn't think the song was that bad. It was actually kinda cute. An upgrade from yesterday's too-" His lips zipped when the deer snapped his attention to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's exactly the prob-LEM!" Alastor squeaked at the end, causing him to cover his mouth in a rush.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The problem is what?" The bartender grinned sarcastically. "That ya enjoyed the song?" The slow and hesitant nod from the Radio Demon was a sight to see. A slaughterer of sinners, standing at his bar while looking dazed by his own emotions. "Right then"-he poured himself more whiskey then left the bar to get comfy in a chair-"I'm guessing ya need help?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor laid himself on the couch, his brow furrowed with an unstable cocktail of feelings. "Stop taking enjoyment in this. That's incredibly rude when your beloved benefactor is in distress." The deadpan expression he received as a response cheered him up just a teensy bit. "Fine, yes, I would like it. Your help with...this."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So what kinda route ya feeling up for? Send him a gift in return or maybe a letter?" The feline hummed thoughtfully, unsure which would be better to send an overlord that owned entire the porn business</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The troubled groan from Alastor was followed by him lightly pulling on his ears, "I don't want to woo or be wooed. I just want to know how to ignore these infuriating sensations!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Husk cocked his head to one side as he prodded, "what kinda sensations ya talking about?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My stomach feels like there's a hundred flappy things, like moths, going crazy in there. And my chest is so out of synch while everything seems to spin around me!" The deer threw his hands up in exasperation as if the symptoms were more than he could bear. Knowing his reputation, it probably was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So what I'm hearing is, ya swooning over this attention from him?" Husk pointedly flicked his long tail in the direction of the helpless sap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I am NOT!" Alastor all but whined out, much to his chagrin. "I'm just...unaccustomed to someone wanting to be closer than I'd like. At least someone who isn't Mimzy." His companion nodded sagely at the mention of his not-so secret admirer. Maybe he could sic her on the moth demon. Surely an enraged and jealous Mimzy could handle an overlord over twice her height. She was a fierce one when a fire was lit under her, but the moths in his stomach urged him to abandon the hypothetical plan. Deep inside, among the maniacal fluttering and denial, was the truth he was willingly being blind to. He was enjoying the advances so far.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, I hate to break it to ya but ya can't ignore him for too long"-Husk leaned forward in his chair, expression getting serious-"else Valentino won't just be calling the station. Might pop up here if ya don't respond in some way." The look of shock that crossed the crimson deer's eyes told Husk that his suitor showing up in person hadn't been considered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed lightly while scratching his chest. When he opened his mouth to calm Alastor's nerves, the silence was already being filled by the faint crackle of static as the Radio Demon got up from his spot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're certainly right, my furry compatriot. It would be ill mannered of me to ignore this much further. But might I ask, how did you know what song was his?" Alastor tilted his head in genuine wonderment at the feline demon's knowledge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Husk couldn't be bothered to keep down the shit-eating grin that showed off his teeth. "Because ya kept on giggling every so often afterwards."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~    ~ ~    ~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Never had Valentino had as tense or important of a meeting until now. This could make or break his very being. Sitting at his desk, his claws were steepled tensely in front of his face as he stared down the figure sitting on his couch. His office was almost completely silent, save for the rapid tapping of nails on a phone screen and faint music coming out of gaudy purple headphones designed to look like cat ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Velvet was usually a bundle of energy, having difficulty keeping still for longer than a few minutes, but today she was all business. Her fingers were furiously blazing over the screen as she switched between a multitude of apps, pausing to listen to a part in a song on repeat before continuing her research. Seeing her so focused was almost terrifying when in contrast to how she behaved any other time of the day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Valentino wanted a second opinion on his playlist from someone who was a bit more privy to this heart feelsy stuff. The bookcase in her room was stuffed full of mushy romance-what did she call them? Mangos? Mongos? Manga, yeah that was it-manga, so he figured she'd have a useful opinion. He didn't think she'd be this into helping him, but he was glad she was. There was no way he wanted to mess this up and lose what chances he had, if any.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought he had heard giggling coming from the dapper demon after his song was over, but maybe he was imagining it. Or maybe, Alastor found the whole thing to be as hilarious as Vox initially had. Ouch. That thought hit him square in the chest like a briefcase bursting with hundred dollar bills, yo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What was he going to do if Alastor actually rejected him? His heart constricted in his chest at the idea of being pushed away like the flapper girl that hung on the Radio Demon's every word. Mimzy had been publicly turned down more times than his best accountant could keep track of. Would that be the fate in store for him? Eternally trying to win over that icy heart, only to be endlessly denied the sweet release of reciprocation. Maybe falling for the gentleman in red was his true punishment in Hell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was starting to mope all over again when his phone buzzed with a text message from Velvet. She was staring at him, her brows pushed together with obvious concern as he opened his phone to read her text.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>'Stop looking so sad, senpai~! Not sugoi at all~!' Her words were emphasized with emojis of teary faces, sparkles, and broken hearts that made him groan. 'These songs are sooo kawaii, I bet they'll make Radio-chan's kokoro get all doki doki~!' He could only assume that was a good thing based on the amount of cutesy hearts she typed at the end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thanks Velvet-" he halted his sentence when she glared at him pointedly. Right, the silly nickname. He sighed exasperatedly as he held up his hands, moving them as if bowing to her excellence, "ya help is greatly appreciated, oh V-chama" Earning a huge smile from her, he chuckled more earnestly now that he was in a much better mood than before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another buzz brought his attention back to his phone, then again and again while Velvet spammed him with memes she made of 'Radio-chan', as she endearingly referred to the host as. Each photo was a still frame taken from a video so she could get the wackiest expressions. Most were harmless captions like '</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tfw the moth wants your lamp', </span>
  </em>
  <span>but one in particular had him slapping his desk as he struggled to breathe. The single frame of Alastor made him appear stunned, his jaw hanging agape as the caption read, '</span>
  <em>
    <span>When you say you want an anaconda for your birthday and he starts unzipping his pants'.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once she was done trying to re-kill him with her memes, she texted over links to a few forums she had done some snooping around in. Valentino moved over to one side of his chair at her insistent pushing, the social media addict climbing onto his lap so she could point out threads and comments he might find useful. He didn't live with girls growing up, belonging to a home where the only one who didn't breathe testosterone was mamí, so Velvet was the closest he came to a little sister.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her tiny hands clapped in a rush of glee when he finally squinted at a thread of nothing but photos of the deer demon in public. The tag used by everyone to mark the candid shots was 'Radio Daddy'. He murmured as he scrolled through them, "Fuckin' thirsty shits, huh? More of a Bambi than a Daddy to me, hmph." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shutter of a camera made his eyes snap over to the dainty demon on his lap. Velvet was rapidly uploading a selfie, his chest deflating in relief until a notification appeared from her Penta-gram account. '@OverlordSexxxy senpai is judging you thirsty hoes~ #DaddyIssues'. Opening the app, he saw himself in the background scrutinizing his phone closely like he was in need of glasses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lightly swatted one of her pigtails in retaliation. "Fuck ye, I am." His claw stopped scrolling when he came to a grouping of photos with an incredibly specific theme. Oh. Oh, this was good, better than good even. This was useful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had reliable backup to help him aim a well placed Cupid's arrow into that deer's heart. All he had to do now was take the shot and Alastor would be his.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What could Val have planned for the unsuspecting deer? We'll found out on Friday!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Strawberry Champagne on Ice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Valentino hasn't called in awhile, but he wasn't teasing the sinner? Was he?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All the feedback I've received has been greatly appreciated and helped strengthen this fic!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Cotton candy tinted smoke lazily curled into wispy hearts as they trailed from the end of a slim cigarette holder. With jazz playing faintly from the radio on the mahogany surface behind him, Valentino was wiping his lower claws with a couple of tissues that were tossed into the wastebasket on top of the soiled sheath. He rearranged his signature coat back into place as he leaned in his chair, facing his office window with a satisfied grin. His leering eyes hadn't torn away from the radio tower once, even as his body was racked with spasmodic euphoria. His skin was still thrumming with a near predatory level of adrenaline but at least he had taken the edge off. It wouldn't do for him to go into the next step with more enthusiasm than what was called for and spook his beautiful prey.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he relaxed in his seat, he couldn't keep in the delirious laugh that welled from deep within. He was so goddamn thrilled. This must be what it felt like when Alastor went on rampages back in the day, tearing apart any living thing that crossed his path. Every inch of the moth's skin felt alive and his mind raced with the possibilities of if he succeeded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor didn't seem like the materialistic type, but Valentino was certain he would appreciate a gift picked out with thought put into it. Vox and Velvet had done some digging to aid in his clever courtship display. It was a well known fact that running his empire of debauchery had made him a fortune, and he wanted the radio host to know that he could treat him like the treasure he was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Days had passed since he had last called into the station but that had only worked in his favor. He needed time to let the last song really settle down inside the target of his interest and make him dwell on it. But, he also had to buy time to get a gift perfectly suited for the charming sinner. Nothing too extravagant, but just luxurious enough to show what kind of peacock feathers he boasted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking over his shoulder, he saw that it was nearly time for the show to begin. He swiveled his chair back around to face his desk with an excited rush before turning the radio up louder. The wait was almost more than he could bear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~    ~    ~    ~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sharp clicking of shoes sounded at a steady pace as the gentledeer made another lap around his studio for the thousandth time in the last few days. He had expected Valentino to call again the next day, but one day had crawled dreadfully on to become five and he started to think sometime around day two that it had been a joke. A part of him was menacing and fuming at the idea that he had been duped, while another was pitifully sulking that he had gotten just the teeniest of hopes up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Surely there was some kind of mistake, or perhaps the overlord was dealing with some stressful business tasks that could not be ignored. He tugged at his ears with a low whine as he stomped his heel a single time. Time and again he went over his response to the thought-to-be persistent suitor, but he hated the idea that it was for naught. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as his mind began to spiral into more brooding, a buzz came from the tower's front door. He growled at the intrusive noise and considered obliterating whoever caused it, but when he threw the door open violently, he saw at his hip level was a delivery imp. One of his eyebrows raised as if to silently ask why he was being bothered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"U-u-umm delivery f-for Alastor the Radio Demon f-from Overlord Valentin-AHH!!" The tiny imp jumped out of their skin with how fast the package was snatched from their grasp. A second later, the door slammed in their face but from under the doorway came a shadowy silhouette of the tower's owner that dropped a gracious tip at the imp's feet and retreated back inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The phone started ringing on its hook only to be cut short when Alastor's shadow unplugged the landline. It tutted an inky digit at the silenced offender as if to shame the caller for daring to interrupt its master. Alastor stood there with wide eyes while he stared at the dainty package in his hands. The paper was a glossy vermillion tied up with the deepest black ribbon. Tucked under the ribbon was a small folded note labeled with his name in surprisingly ornate cursive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Opening the note, he found more of the writing which he guessed to be the personal style of the moth demon. 'Please play at least half this song before ya go and open the package. Promise ya it'll be worth it.' A heart drawn at the end was so simple, yet it was enough to make him giggle. He looked at the song added in the postscript and tilted his head, then eagerly crossed to his mic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Discourteous as it may be to interrupt a song, it was his station and he was feeling particularly selfish in this moment. "Apologies folks for the delay, but here is the latest request for you all to enjoy!" He announced with the utmost satisfaction. Whispering to his mic, he let it work its magic as he hovered over the gift and impatiently waited for the song to begin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, hey, hey</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I got a condo in Manhattan</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Baby girl, what's hatnin'?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You and your ass invited</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So gon' and get to clappin'</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Go pop it for a player, pop-pop it for me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Turn around and drop it for a player, drop-drop it for me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Immediately his ears pressed flat against his head in distaste. Surely the overlord didn't think this drivel would earn him any points, did he?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'll rent a beach house in Miami</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wake up with no jammies</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lobster tail for dinner</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Julio, serve that scampi</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You got it if you want it, got, got it if you want it</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Said you got it if you want it, take my wallet if you want it, now</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jump in the Cadillac (Girl, let's put some miles on it)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anything you want (Just to put a smile on you)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You deserve it baby, you deserve it all</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I'm gonna give it to you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His ears stood back up with interest at the turn the music had taken. Maybe the tune wasn't as reprehensible as he thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gold jewelry shining so bright</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Strawberry champagne on ice</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sex by the fire at night</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Silk sheets and diamonds all white</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The all around meaning of the song didn't go over the demon's head but, though only mentioned in brief passing, his cheeks couldn't resist flaming up at the idea of intimacy.  Valentino wanted to spoil him, pamper him, give him anything to make him smile. It made his stomach flutter and flip with the sentiment but, before he got too distracted, his shadow pointed at an invisible watch in reminder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Red eyes gleamed in delight as he sliced open the wrapping paper with expert precision. Hidden inside the fragile fortress of gloss and ribbon was a simple, long and black box. He gently removed the lid only to have his breath catch in his throat. Laying on a cushioned interior was a cigarette holder no more than a foot in length. Mindlessly, he found himself running a fingertip along its creamy exterior. Oh my. He knew that color and texture from his days before eternal punishment. This beauty was made of polished antler.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands moved up to cover his mouth, squeals of elation peeping from behind his fingers as he admired the gift in front of him. There were insurmountable odds that Valentino happened upon something this pristine and particular. Now he knew why that bewitching sinner hadn't bothered to call him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, he was just going to have to make him, now wasn't he?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~    ~    ~    ~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Valentino was restlessly shifting in his chair as the song was coming to an end. His gift had been received but had it garnered a positive reaction? Or was Velvet's information bogus and now he was going to face a fate worse than death. Rejection. He ran a claw over his face as disappointment bloomed in his heart, but paused at the voice on the radio.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That was certainly something, my fellow denizens! This next little bop is a special treat so do enjoy!" The host presented with a titter. The pimp practically climbed atop his desk to get closer to his radio and hear more of that coveted voice. His wish must have been granted by some benevolent entity, because the music that began was followed by the Radio Demon's enchanting siren singing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I threw a wish in the well</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't ask me I'll never tell</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I looked at you as it fell</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And now you're in my way</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'd trade my soul for a wish</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pennies and dimes for a kiss</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wasn't looking for this</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But now you're in my way</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His jaw fell open, his heart tripping over itself as it skipped a few beats over the lyrics. He wouldn't be the first to admit he recognized the words, but the style they were sung in was tailored to Alastor's preferences.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your stare was holdin'</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ripped slacks, skin was showin'</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hot night, wind was blowin'</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where you think you're going baby?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, I just met you and this is crazy</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But here's my number, so call me maybe</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's hard to look right at you baby</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But here's my number, so call me maybe</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey I just met you and this is crazy</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But here's my number, so call me maybe</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And all the other boys try to chase me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But here's my number, so call me maybe</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chair tipping over and sent crashing to the floor, Valentino scrambling to find his phone in his pocket. He desperately clutched it in his claws as he gawked at the small box with hearts in his eyes and words at the tip of his tongue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a vital phone call to be made.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Much ado to AwesomeInTheory as Alastor sings the Postmodern Jukebox cover of "Call Me Maybe" &lt;3</p><p>The first song used is "That's What I Like" by Bruno Mars</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. So Call Me Maybe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Valentino takes Alastor up on the invitation, but are either of them prepared to actually talk?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The shadowy minion couldn't plug that phone in any faster if it tried. Before the first chorus had even finished, the landline was hooked back up with a flourish. Alastor's shadow did a celebratory jig in place as it watched its master singing, eager for him to hurry it up so the charming overlord could call. As the flirty little number came to a close, the minion observed the way its boss' eyes looked so spirited.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor was out of breath when he stepped away from the mic, letting it automatically switch his station over to some peppy swing. His grin split his excited expression to appear as if he was a wild madman. And though he could be considered a madman, or rather maddeer, the only wild thing in the studio was his heartbeat. The organ just wouldn't calm down throughout the song as his accursed imagination pictured the towering pimp sitting in the studio, eating him up with his gaze as he sang for him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His nerves frayed further as the studio filled with the ringing of his telephone, but that didn't stop him from lunging at it like the hunter he was. Maybe it was an ordinary sinner calling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hello there! What can I do you for?" He exclaimed into the receiver while his mind reeled in mortification at the flub. Hopefully they didn't hear that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The low chuckle on the other end shattered that brief hope as it simultaneously sent his stomach moths into a flurry of flapping. "I'd answer that honestly, but I would hate to have ya hang up on me already." Flirting. Of course the demon was flirting. He knew to expect it, but he wasn't prepared for how his insides somersaulted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That would be inconsiderate, and I am nothing if not a gentleman with those who deserve it," Alastor spoke with confidence, despite how his emotions contrasted his tone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh? I wasn't deservin' the first song around? I'm hurt, Bambi." Valentino came across as teasing, but his mind had latched onto the endearment. Bambi. The cartoon deer. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span> cartoon deer. Oh my. His face felt hotter than a pot of gumbo.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He must have taken too long to reply, because then the pimp was doubling back, "Sorry, shouldn't have called ya that without ya say so-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I say so!" Alastor interrupted hastily before slamming his palm into his forehead. This conversation was starting off just swell. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They sat in uninterrupted silence, letting their awkwardness speak for them for some moments before Valentino's silky timbre took the stage, "Can I take it that ya liked my present then?" There was a tinge of uncertainty to his words. So, the pimp could be nervous too...interesting.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You can do so, but it is rather curious. I don't recall smoking anytime I've seen you around." The implied question hung from the sentence, inviting the moth like a flame.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino's chuckle was hesitant, "I've done my research." It came out as very roundabout, but the vagueness of it tempted him to tease.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh? Did you find out I was a sheba through this infallible research then?" Alastor couldn't hold back the snigger that slipped out, revealing his hand to be nothing but a joker. When the other demon only made a noise of bafflement, he found himself laughing as he took mercy on him, "Men's cigarette holders are traditionally much shorter. I quite like this one though."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Really? I just thought ya might enjoy a long one like mine." Valentino's eyes widened at the unintended innuendo. He sputtered as he tried to recover the fumble, cursing under his breath at his tendency for lewd humor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor could hear him panicking on the other end while he covered his rather broad smirk. Witnessing someone who usually flaunted their confidence and sexuality devolve into the behavior of an inexperienced juvenile felt thrilling. He knew he was a sadist for other's pain, but he didn't know he could feel titillation over a Don Juan stumbling like a nervous wreck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shifted in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as his skin tingled. It was a shame he couldn't see the moth for himself. Blinking at the thought, he glanced over to his shadowy subordinate with a clever idea. The inky figure gave a blurring nod as it read his mind and dematerialized, reappearing just a couple miles away in the dark office of the pimp.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The shadow was unnoticed in the corner of the large room, observing the overlord as it provided visual feedback for the radio host. Valentino was shaking his hellphone rather dramatically as if it was the object's fault he had the slip of the tongue. The sight was so unexpected that Alastor accidentally and most ungraciously snorted into the phone, letting his 'sullen' cover blow.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino squinted at the sound but the shadow could see his expression was part curiosity and every bit amusement, "...did ya just snort at me?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor wiped a tear from his eye at the force of the action, "I would never do something so uncouth. What an accusation to make, my spindly…" His sentence trailed off as he watched Valentino put his device on his desk, resting his upper arms then chin on top to stare at it with hooded eyes. The moth looked at the electronic and, he assumed, himself by extension like it was the most precious thing in Hell. His heart stuttered, unable to handle what his voyeurism revealed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Spindly?" Valentino prompted kiddingly from the perch on his arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor bit his knuckles for a moment, nicking the flesh as he attempted to gain the upperhand again. When he opened his mouth to provide a smart quip, he was betrayed by the teamwork of his swoon-sick brain and traitorous lips, "Would you like to have dinner together sometime? Soon?" The additional question made him sound needy as he cringed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino shot up from his desk, the chair threatening to send itself out the window with how hard it hit the glass. "Ye! I mean...ye, is tomorrow night good? I can pick ya up at six."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His legs uncrossed, feet tapping rapidly at the jittery happiness bubbling up in him. "Tomorrow at six then. Don't be late." Alastor hung up hurriedly before he could make a fool of himself any more. Just before he retrieved his shadow from the reconnaissance, he saw Valentino moving his two pairs of arms in what he believed was called a patch of cabbages.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His henchman rematerialized looking like it won blue ribbon at the county fair. He sighed as he realized one troublesome detail. What was he going to wear?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Breaking & Entering</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nothing can stop these wingmen from their fun, whether it's the wee hours of the morning or a locked door!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Antennae flicked in the pitch dark of the bedroom, alerting the moth demon to a strange clicking disrupting his slumber. The loudest of the sounds made his lock groan, the only warning Valentino had before his door burst open.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"RISE AND SHINE, MOTHERFUCKER!" Vox's expression was far too bright, lighting up the room with glaring blue and red. In his hands were a greasy bag of McDante's, the iconic nine circles like a black target, and a cup holder of Starbitch coffee.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino hissed grouchily, "Fuck off, asshole! Get out!" Throwing a plush pillow in the screen's direction, he heard it connect with something far too soft to be the jackass of a rooster. He peered at the doorway to see Velvet beside the TV demon. She pouted, letting him know she had received the pillow instead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I bring you food and this is how you repay me, shithead? Fuck you and your ugly ass shag carpet!" Vox's screen flickered to a dozen shit emojis. The pimp barely had time to move before the silent social networker was launching herself onto his bed, the furniture shaped like a huge heart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How did ya even get in here? I know I locked my door last night." Valentino's eyes scanned the shitlord for something resembling a key, only to turn up empty. Rather, Velvet held up her hellphone to proudly display a </span>
  <em>
    <span>How to Pick Door Locks </span>
  </em>
  <span>video paused on Viewtube. Below that, the recommendations ventured down the rabbit hole of </span>
  <em>
    <span>12 Hour Cat Screaming, Imp Does Backflip Off Building UNCENSORED, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Life Hacks with Lube.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Valentino did not want to see the small sinner's search history if her app was suggesting twelve ungodly hours.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tallest of them groaned as he sat up fully, his lengthy spine cracking like a fresh glow stick, "Ugh fuck...why are ya here this early?" He growled as a burger was thrust into his claw, Vox's screen taken up by a shit-eating grin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Velvet responded by tapping and swiping on her phone. He expected her to type up a message, but instead she turned her phone around to show her latest Penta-gram post. The video was muted but he could tell what was playing by the screenshared view of her radio app and the caption 'Radio-chan has such killer pipes~!!'. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The pimp wasn't strong enough to keep in the elated chuckle at the memory of the night before, causing Vox to bounce in his spot on the edge. The electrified overlord cackled, "Oh shit! Something DID happen?! Spill the deets, fucker!!" His screen opened briefly to allow a burger to be shoved into his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kicking at the UHMTV demon, he still couldn't stop the cocky smirk from gracing his expression, "He liked my gift. A lot. He was...so fuckin' cute over the phone. But, we're havin' dinner tonight at six."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Daaamn! Where you going? You gonna take the Pimp Machine? Ooooh, suit and tie tonight?" Vox's eyes were exaggeratedly huge with his rambling interest in the topic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The moth snickered at how curious his amigo was about a date not involving him, "Haven't decided yet, it's the Pimp </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mobile</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and of fuckin' course. Ya think I'll wear a basic ass outfit for dinner with THE Radio Demon?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Vox shrugged up to his wide screen as he slurped down his hot cocoa, handing over the lecherous overlord's usual cinnamon and cayenne mocha. He released his straw with an obnoxiously refreshed sound, "</span>
  <em>
    <span>AHHH</span>
  </em>
  <span>! You haven't decided yet? You have like...any clue where you're taking him?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The towering sinner sipped thoughtfully from his drink, nodding just a bit. He lowered his cup with a pensive look in his eyes. "I know he likes cookin' cajun style, but I ain't takin' us to a restaurant that has it."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The comment seemed to confuse Vox, whose screen slowly filled with question marks. Valentino shook his head with a chortle at the puzzlement, "Dumbass, if he's as good of a cook as I hear then it'd be an insult. I know I can think up some-" He felt a tiny hand yank on his lower right arm, pulling his attention down to Velvet. She had a list brought up of various restaurants, some he frequented and some he had tasted the owners. He made the mental note not to take Alastor to the latter if he had a choice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Velvet had taken the liberty of drawing a circle around one place he tended to go to privately, only because most around him couldn't handle how heavily spiced the food was. She tilted her head adorably, batting her eyes as if asking if she did a good job. He gave her a pleased hum, patting the top of her head affectionately, "Thanks V-chama. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Es perfecto</span>
  </em>
  <span>." The endearment brought a beaming smile to the littlest overlord.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oi! Where's my gratitude? I brought the food and the tiny genius!" Vox's screen was a pouting emoji, clearly annoyed that he wasn't getting any attention or praise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino rolled his eyes at the bratty attitude, sighing even as he grinned at the dork of a friend, "Ya wanna help pick out my suit?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before the pimp could even get out of bed, the hyper fuck was already racing over to the walk-in closet, "You bet your lube collection I do!!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~    ~    ~    ~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Creaking menacingly, the hotel front doors jeopardized Alastor's stealthy entrance into the lobby. It was late enough to no longer be considered night, but just early enough that most sane demons wouldn't be awake. In the deer's case, nobody claimed him to be mentally stable since he arrived. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With this particular instance though the combination of insomnia, nerves, and avoidance of a particular feline were not doing him any favors. There was no chance he wanted to see that smug expression before he went to the dinner. Surely Husk had overheard his provocative little song and was just waiting to gloat at how right he was.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He used his shadow to peek around the bar and lounge, finding it to be clear of any life, and exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding. How silly of him. He could just kill the cursed cat if he tried to be obnoxious. But...then who would begrudgingly listen to his newfound woes? Who would he toy with when he had a troublesome day? Alright, so he supposed he couldn't just off him. That damned, charming suitor was making him softer than he cared to admit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tip-toeing over to the elevator, he entered and hastily pushed the button for the thirteenth floor. He leaned back against the wall as it ascended and pursed his lips into a strained smile, miffed at how his racing mind had kept him up. How he wished he could just materialize into his room, but it was a risky feat when he would likely pass out as soon as he laid down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The elevator bell dinged when it reached his floor, the doors opening felt slower than usual but he assumed that was due to his nerves. He cautiously peered out the doors, finding the hall to be silent and without hide or hair of Husk. His shoulders unwound their tension as he made his way to his door, dragging his feet while he grinned sleepily at how close he was to his bed. Placing his key in the lock, he was satisfied at the welcoming click of the door letting him inside.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor shuffled in the darkness, knowing the layout far too well to need lights to get to bed. That was why when his chair-side lamp suddenly turned on, he whipped around with antlers branched dangerously and teeth bared at the intruder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Husk was pressed up against his favorite cozy armchair, his grin faltering as his fur stood on end. His eyes looked like he was close to letting his bowels expel right there. "F-fuck, sorry."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The deer sighed in annoyance as he willed his antlers back down to their normal size, "What are you doing in here? I could've and should've killed you!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Figured ya would avoid me, so I thought I'd wait ya out until ya got back." The bartender relaxed bit by bit as he kept his eyes on the overlord warily.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor narrowed his gaze in suspicion at the cat burglar. "How did you get in here, Husker?" He hadn't noticed any tampering with his door, and the lock wasn't out of place.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Husk tossed him a key hurriedly. It was his only spare. "Lifted it from Niffty earlier. She was rambling at how odd ya been the last few days. Silencing ya room then acting restless when she was cleaning. Sooooo I-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thought it was terribly bright to just startle me? Someone who murders for the fun of it? Hmm here I thought you were smarter than that, old pal. I could've had your guts on my fine rug." Alastor gestured to his spotless floor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The feline shrugged, "I didn't think that far ahead. Been too preoccupied with other things."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Other things? What pray tell might those be?" The crimson demon inquired thoughtlessly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The smirk on Husk's face was a giveaway before he even opened his trap. "About me being right and shit. Thought ya were just gonna write him a nice letter?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor crossed his arms as he felt a flush warm his cheeks. "Initially, yes. Then I decided that it would be more appropriate to respond in kind to his musical courtship."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So the song before yours"-Husk leaned forward in the chair-"that was from him then?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The scarlet sinner's smile widened as he recalled the appealing tune. "Yes, it was. The request came with something else as well." His fingers hesitated a moment then reached inside his long coat to take out the black box. Opening it, he showed off the contents with an embarrassed clearing of his throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Husk whistled long and low, obviously impressed as he gave it a look over. "He sure knows how to pick a gift. Must've cost a good bit."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor tucked the box back away, nodding. "Agreed, something of this design isn't common. It's quite thoughtful of him."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm. So did he call ya then?" There was a teasing tone to the drunkard's voice but it was pointedly ignored.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The deer beamed in reply, feeling his body tingle at the memory. "Yes! It was a lovely and informative phone call! In fact, we'll be talking some more tonight. Over some food."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Woah, ya gotta date? Holy shit, good job!" Husk was sitting much more rigid, his tail swishing faintly at the news.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor tried to play off the blush on his countenance as he waved dismissively. "It's only dinner between two overlords."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The cat rolled his eyes as he got up. He stalked towards the bedroom. "Come on."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Where are you going?" The radio host raised an eyebrow, but followed the bossy bartender.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Husk looked back at him with a chuckle, "To see what ya gonna wear on ya date, duh."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you're also an individual who reads Seven Ways to Heaven, I'd like to notify you that the fourth chapter is being pieced together rather slow. This fic has a schedule that takes priority and my personal stipulation for Seven has always been that I'm ahead on DJ's chapters in order to work on it. It's a lot like treating myself (and you all as well) for keeping up with the writing.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Alastor and the Pimp Mobile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dressed to kill and ready to stumble through conversation, these hapless demons are about to face their toughest foe yet. Close proximity to one another!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm terribly sorry for the mildly late delay. My mental health has been tough to work with and my motivation was only enough for a snail's pace. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Standing in front of the full length mirror, Alastor studied his outfit for the tenth time that hour. He then took out his pocket watch, noting with a grimace that only a couple minutes had passed since he last checked. However, a rush of thrill followed shortly at the realization that it was five 'til six. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Stop looking at ya watch, ya making me antsy with that shit. And I swear, ya change ya clothes the last second I'll tell Charlie it was you who took her pecan praline ice cream." Husk was draped across the armchair in his suite, a bottle of wine in one paw. A 'celebratory drink' he had declared after barging in when the deer had answered the bothersome knocking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alastor levelled the feline with a look, daring him to rat the demon out to the princess. "You're sure this ensemble is idoneous enough for the dinner?" he cringed inwardly at the insecurity creeping at the end of the question.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Idunnowha? If ya asking how ya look, then for the hundredth time, Al, it's good. Geez, he's gonna have a hard time <em> not </em>touching ya." Husk sighed in exasperation, but gave an encouraging raise of his drink.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The radio host hummed at the bartender's words, while his cheeks warmed at the thought of being almost too irresistible to the suave moth. He looked over himself in the mirror, just to reassure himself that Husk was likely correct. His crisp, white button up shirt had the first two buttons undone, the long sleeves rolled up neatly to sit just above his elbows. A modest brown belt held up the dusty red slacks to show a hint of the black socks he wore beneath his deep wine colored oxfords. His smile tightened when his eyes came to rest on the scars revealed on his forearms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oi, don't make that face...he ain't gonna care about those, ya know that right?" Husk's voice carried over from the sitting area, weighed with concern and confidence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The deer's fingers itched to unroll the fabric or snap his favorite coat into place, but his companion's drunken optimism kept his restraint strong. He moved to check his pocket watch once again, but was interrupted by his shadowy minion appearing in the room. It jumped in place, silently clapping as a grin split its silhouette of a face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alastor's posture was at attention in an instant, his head snapping with unpleasant speed to look at Husk. "He's here. Show time!" And with that, he dematerialized with his minion, the figure giving a last second wave to the winged demon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~    ~    ~    ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Punctuality was a trait the moth prided himself in having. Not a minute late or early, always right on time. It was also a quality he made sure his drivers had, or else their 'firing' would be rather excruciating. Precisely at six in the evening, he pulled up in front of the hotel in what he affectionately deemed the Pimp Mobile. A custom '69 Cadillac Coupe DeVille limo in sinnamon red, the vanity license plate reading SEXXXY.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Valentino was charmed to find that he didn't have to wait even a minute before his date swiftly made an appearance, seeming to come from the shadows of a nearby streetlight pole. He heard his driver's door click to open but he stopped him with a snap of his claw. "Let me." He ordered firmly before leaving the vehicle, unfurling his legs to stand on the sidewalk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His already long figure was accentuated by a pair of slouchy, black knee-high stiletto boots. The tops of the boots met with the fabric of his high waisted trousers, a red so dark that it bordered on black. To pull it all together was a silvery grey regency style shirt with ruffles at his neck. He knew damn well he looked good, but the stunned expression on Alastor's face made a bud of self-consciousness pop up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clearing his throat, Valentino tried to bury his growing nerves under a layer of charisma. "Well well, I can't say I dislike this style of dress."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh?" Alastor was quick to snap out of his daze. "I wasn't aware someone could balance on knitting needles."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pimp barked out a laugh at the comment, his eyes following the scarlet sinner's movements as he brushed a hair on his bangs and-<em> oh. </em> Valentino couldn't resist the urge to drink up the sight of Alastor with his pretty locks pulled back with a simple black band.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He must have been staring for longer than he thought, because the radio host bent forward slightly with hands behind his back to smirk up at him. "Are you going to invite me into your vehicle?" </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The cute smirk tied his tongue in a knot as he hastily moved to gesture for Alastor to go in first. His heart practically exploded when he caught a tiny giggle as the smaller demon climbed inside his limousine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~    ~    ~    ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alastor took a seat diagonally from Valentino, instantly becoming overly conscious of the proximity of their limbs. Though the vehicle could be classified as a limo, it wasn't nearly as spacious as the one the princess used. Its sitting area was far more <em> personal </em>, making his crossed leg jittery. The pimp appeared to understand his need for space, his elongated limbs tucked against his side in a manner that came off as unnatural for him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So"-he started off before mentally stalling, unsure how to break the ice now that they were so close to one another. Valentino was watching him in a way that made him feel like an interesting book found in a dusty shop. He knew what it looked like to study something closely, the moth's eyes taking in every detail it could find. It wasn't an unpleasant or predatory kind of fascination, rather a genuine desire to know more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The deer demon inhaled to quell the stomach moths threatening to fly from his mouth. He spoke evenly, "Why is it you wanted to court me? Surely you wouldn't take a joke this far."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Straight to the point, eh? Ya can't believe a friend of Vox would be interested in ya?" Valentino cocked his head just a fraction.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I admit that plays a rather large portion in my disbelief. Well, that and your...inclinations." Alastor's cheeks gained a tad more color at the implied activities.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Valentino shifted to face his date better, keeping his legs close. "Vox and I are close, but that don't mean I gotta be mortal enemies with the same overlords."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Demon, not overlord. Thank you." The deer corrected with a stale, tight grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Valentino waved his hand, nodding in agreement. "I know ya ain't a true overlord. I just find 'really fuckin' powerful demon' to be a mouthful sometimes. Does that bother ya?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alastor's neck bent at an odd angle as he contemplated the reasoning. His grin then appeared more sincere. "I suppose I can grant you the unique permission of using the term. If you're just referring to my strength that is."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pimp lit up with satisfaction, showing off a single golden razor among the blood colored set. "And about the other thing. Not sure if ya wanna hear this or naw, but I ain't touched another sinner since my first call. Didn't think it'd be exactly...smiled on if I was sexin' up others while flirtin' with ya." His voice started off confident but slowly detoured to wavering.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The radio host was staring at Valentino with the wobbliest of smiles, his face aflame and eyes enlarged like something in his mind had broken. Moments passed where he felt like he was failing to connect the right wires to get his thoughts broadcasting to him again. It wasn't until he registered a muffled chuckling that his brain booted back up, drawing his attention to the moth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Valentino was covering his face-splitting grin with one claw, not a trace of malice or mocking in his squinting eyes. "S-sorry, just didn't think I'd get that reaction. Thought maybe ya would wack me with ya mic or get all staticy."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alastor found himself crossing his arms, turning his cheek with the slightest of huffs at being teased. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint your expectations."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Disappoint? Oh Bambi, that was fuckin' adorable. Glad I got to see it, and so close too." The porn producer gestured with his claws as if he was readying a shot, his tone easing into flirty. The deer turned away, as if that was enough to hide the giggle he was stifling from escaping into the small space. It hadn't worked, Alastor noted as his peripheral vision caught the movement of Valentino leaning towards the sound.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~    ~    ~    ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Valentino was going to have a lot of daydream fuel with the way this was going. They hadn't even had dinner yet and he was on cloud nine already. The limo slowed down suddenly, making the pimp's heart thrum with anticipation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> La Cocina del Diablo </em> served the most authentic and spiciest latin cuisine he'd had since he arrived. The head cook and owner, a saucy and foul mouthed bat demon by the name of Camila, reminded him a lot of his mamí. That is, if his mamí had been sent to Hell for killing and serving rapists to guests.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He swung open his door in his excitement only for his grin to fall at the corners with disgruntlement. The restaurant with the hottest food around was currently being swallowed by an even hotter blaze, Camila wailing from across the street.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Valentino could sense his date come up behind him to get a better view of what made him stop and muttered under his breath, "Well...fuck."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It turns out the first date is going to be broken up a bit as I didn't want to make the chapter disproportionately long, and certainly want to have some fun with it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Gamberros and Voyous</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dinner plans have went up in flames, but that won't stop these demons from having their fun.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so glad I was able to get this chapter out on time, and thank you for all the kind words of encouragement. I'm doing my best not to push myself more than I can handle &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Valentino climbed out of the car with brows knit close in frustration. Looking back down at Alastor, he saw that he was content to observe from inside the car. "Be right back, Bambi." He murmured, doing his best not to flip his lid at the inconvenience.</p><p> </p><p>He crossed the street over to the weeping figure of Camila. "Camila, <em> ¿qué pasa?" </em>He was irritable, but he held back the urge to snap when she was clearly more upset than him.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh <em> mijo</em>, those fucking <em> gamberros </em> came back around!" Camila wiped at her eyes furiously, forehead scrunched with rage</p><p> </p><p>Valentino sneered at the mention of the wannabe gangsters that kept trying to offer 'protection' to those in the area. "Ye? They the <em> pendejos </em> that set the fire?"</p><p> </p><p>The distressed bat nodded as she hissed out, "Fucking told them if they kept bringing their asses around, I would use them in my tamales. I thought they took the hint...then a fucking malatov comes through the front windows!" The memory brought more wailing from the small woman.</p><p> </p><p>The pimp felt uncomfortable having to see the usually spirited cook so dismayed. He knew if it was his actual mamí that this was done to, he'd be painting the town red. Glancing over to the limo, he gave a sympathetic grin. "<em>No se preocupe, </em> Camila. I'll take care of everthin'. Ya just go home and write me up what got lost in the fire. <em> ¿Entiéndame?" </em></p><p> </p><p>Camila lunged forward, easily wrapping her strong arms around his legs to nearly break his bones in a hug. "Ayyye <em> mijo</em>, you're such a good <em> niño</em>! Any <em> mamá </em>would be so proud to have you."</p><p> </p><p>The sentiment made his heart ache, but he only replied with a fond press of his mouth to the top of her head. He gently pushed her to leave the area before going back to the car to give the bad news.</p><p> </p><p>Valentino was surprised to return and find Alastor humming away, ear pressed to his mic. "Uhh...what ya doin', Bambi?"</p><p> </p><p>Alastor's grin was huge, creaking with notes of sadistic happiness as he pointed to his ears. "Why, I couldn't help but overhear your upset companion! So, I took it upon myself to help with the search of those...gammeras?"</p><p> </p><p>Valentino stared at the deer as he got back in, his tense smile relaxing at the flub. "<em>Gamberros. </em>Thugs, ruffians, et cetera."</p><p> </p><p>The crimson sinner laughed, not in the least embarrassed by his mistake. "Ahh, <em> voyous. </em>Pardon my French." He giggled at the absolutely intentional pun.</p><p> </p><p>The pimp felt another ache radiate in his heart, this one more warming. He leaned closer in his seat. "Ya know French?"</p><p> </p><p>Alastor eyed his movement but made no objection, "It's a little something I picked up in Louisiana. Nothing too impressive. Where did you get your Spanish?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, my parents came over to the States with my brothers. But Spanish ain't uncommon in Southern California either." Valentino shrugged, keeping his attention on his date.</p><p> </p><p>"Your brothers? I take it you were born after they immigrated then?" Alastor tilted his head, keeping the mic near his ear as he did so.</p><p> </p><p>Valentino nodded in approval. "<em>Exactamente </em>, Bambi. My brothers were all raised partly in Mexico but my home was always San Fernando."</p><p> </p><p>The deer seemed pleased to know something so personal, shifting to face the tall moth. "Oh? What is San Fernando like?"</p><p> </p><p>The question made the pimp laugh, amused at their little game of 20 Questions, "Really fuckin' Catholic. Why else ya think I'm so kinky? Sexual repression~" He waved his claws in a jazzy manner.</p><p> </p><p>Alastor barely hid his face in time, snorting into his palms at the silliness of the unexpected answer, "S-so it's Catholicism's fault you're a pervert then? My greatest apologies!" He couldn't hold back the cackling that followed.</p><p> </p><p>Valentino's face was eaten up by the grin that spread wide, chuckling at the cute display in front of him. He'd seen Alastor laughing, typically in a cruel or jabbing way at Vox's expense. None of those other times compared to witnessing his obvious enjoyment. The scarlet demon's lively eyes were crinkled at the corners, tears gathering from how hard he was laughing.</p><p> </p><p>~    ~    ~    ~</p><p> </p><p>The radio host felt he was being observed, opening his eyes to narrow them at the towering demon as he tried stopping the bursts of laughter. "D-didn't your mother ever tell you it's impolite to stare?"</p><p> </p><p>"That she did. But it's hard as fuck when ya look so gorgeous, Bambi." Valentino sat back in his seat, smirking with all the appearance of a triumphant cat.</p><p> </p><p>Alastor wrinkled his nose in an attempt to look displeased by the compliment, even when the rest of him was practically glowing pink. He opened his mouth to counter when his ears flicked, catching something in his microphone. Voices slurred with inebriation, guffawing about how they hoped that 'bat bitch' went up with her restaurant. </p><p> </p><p>His grin screwed up with more animosity than pleasure. "Ah. It seems I have found our culprits, due south by nearly a mile. I can have my minion show the way."</p><p> </p><p>The driver, who had been diligently silent through everything, squeaked as Alastor's shadow materialized in the passenger's seat and pointed down the road. Valentino blinked, as if remembering why he had been so annoyed earlier, then snapped at the driver. "Follow its directions." The pimp stared out the window, distracted by the prospect of revenge.</p><p> </p><p>Alastor was bothered to have their dinner ruined by such heathens, but was interested in something else at the moment. He took the opportune time, eyes traveling down the lithe frame and taking in the way it was taut with stress. He watched the moth's claws tapping on his thighs with an agitated tempo, antennae stiff a top his head. Even when radiating enmity, Valentino was satisfying to look at. Dare he say, <em> attractive. </em></p><p> </p><p>The short ride was silent, aside from the vehicular hum and softened tapping on fabric. Tires halted outside of a foreclosed café building, the worn sign once proudly indicating Marigold's Mocha &amp; Muffins. Alastor promptly moved to leave the car, but paused at the hand Valentino raised.</p><p> </p><p>"Wait? What's the meaning of this gesture?" The radio host restrained the urge to move the hand with his mic, a touch annoyed to be ordered.</p><p> </p><p>Valentino gave him a smirk that was part savage, part fond, and wholey damned with how it made his heart skip. "I know ya can take this scum without me even liftin' a claw, but this is more personal. Let me handle 'em."</p><p> </p><p>Alastor crossed his arms, still miffed to be told what to do and wanting to be difficult. "Why should I listen to you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, 'cause I'm a gentleman."-the pimp pressed a button hiding just under his seat, revealing a built-in drawer-"And so I can show off for my beautiful and homicidal date." He opened the drawer to show three identical .357 Magnum revolvers. Judging by their metallic pink coloring and heart details on the grip, they were another custom item of his.</p><p> </p><p>Alastor unintentionally found himself admiring how well kept the guns looked as Valentino armed himself. He murmured with a hint of a pout, "I suppose it wouldn't be that much trouble to sit these murders out."</p><p> </p><p>The grinning lecher made a throaty sound of gratification while exiting the limo. He turned back and bent formally, extending his free claw. "C'mon, Bambi. I'll get ya some fresh hearts in return~"</p><p> </p><p>The cannibal felt a particularly hot thrill rush down his spine at the promise. He <em> was </em> positively famished, and the tempation of dinner and a show made his hunger surge. Perhaps the fire wasn't as disappointing as he initially thought.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Satisfaction Guaranteed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vengeance is like eating a demon's heart, better done promptly with as much mess as one can tolerate.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm terribly sorry for not updating in awhile. I got longer shifts at work, split days off, and a general lack of inspiration in how to complete this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it! (I did have to increase the rating though, since there's violence and cannibalism in this chapter)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rather than busting through the front door like assumed, Valentino held it open for Alastor with a playful wink. "Bambi first~"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The deer demon rolled his eyes in exaggeration despite the perky titter that slipped out. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Enchanté</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His heart was beating at a hastened pace, and for the first time in a few days it wasn't because of the increasingly suave overlord. It was the promise of fresh, bloody hearts that made tremors run down his body. His curiosity was piqued as well, his eyes going to the fetching trio of weapons in Valentino's claws as he was passed by the pimp.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Since he was only supposed to observe, he studied the moth demon from behind as they quietly walked towards the door leading into the private areas of the closed business. Valentino had a surprisingly well-balanced posture, despite walking on the footwear equivalent of chopsticks. He tilted his head, his gaze hovering over the expanse of muscle running from the back of the knees to the hips. Even without his appetite for the flesh, he could appreciate the obvious work put into toning the hamstrings.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor covered his mouth with the back of his hand, ashamed at his ogling. When he looked back up, his ears pressed against his head to see that Valentino was smirking back at him knowingly. Turning his head away promptly, he pretended that he most definitely had not been caught staring. The crimson demon was grateful that it would be some time before it could even be feasibly brought up. Especially because he knew he probably wouldn't live it down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The door to the back opened without warning, a reptilian demon walking through with their phone in hand. They were staring at it, apparently having just wandered up front at their own leisure. And to their own demise. No sooner had they glanced up at them, than they had a permanent hole in the center of their forehead. The now lifeless demon fell backwards, the brain-painted door opening with it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What the fuck?!" A gruff voice called out as movement was heard from farther in the back. Alastor's ears perked, picking up the sounds of sinners scrambling in fright. It made his gluttonous stomach rumble with need.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino walked over the corpse without any trouble, briskly strolling through the back with the cheerful cannibal in tow. "Delivery from </span>
  <em>
    <span>La Cucina del Diablo</span>
  </em>
  <span>, motherfuckers~!" When another demon came from the office, knife in hand, the pimp cackled harshly, "Ya brought a knife to a gun fight? </span>
  <em>
    <span>¡Pinche desgraciado!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>With that he used the revolvers in his lower claws to blow out both kneecaps, earning a screech from the demon as they were forced onto the ground.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor's grin was taking up most of his face, thrilled at the symphony of pain he was being treated to. He felt a particular rush of excitement when he watched Valentino line up a kick dead center on the demon's head, making his neck audibly snap. The vengeful pimp tossed a wink back at his date, Alastor jokingly swatting in his direction at the gesture.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino laughed, not hindered in the slightest by their back-and-forth, "Aight, </span>
  <em>
    <span>pendejos</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Rest of ya surrender without a fight and maybe I'll show some fuckin' mercy!" Though his stance told otherwise, all three guns aimed in the direction of where the others were hiding down the hall.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the demand was answered with silence, Alastor couldn't help but join the fun in his own way. His shadowy minion sprung from the ground in front of the pimp, immediately clinging to a lower arm and tugging it excitedly. Valentino looked over his shoulder at the radio host, eyebrow raised as he grinned wide.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor was quick to look away, internally cursing his shadow for acting on its own as he shooed Valentino. The inky figure led the much taller demon by his wrist towards the kitchen, skipping as it did so. It stopped just outside the swinging doors and held up the silhouette of three fingers with a merry smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino cocked his head, looking every bit amused by the assistance. What caught Alastor off guard though, was when the overlord reached down without pause to fondly stroke a blackened ear. His face instantly caught aflame, the transferred sensation making him bite down on his bottom lip to keep from gasping out at the unexpected pleasure.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In that instant, he was never more grateful to see Valentino kick a door open. The kitchen filled with screams of terror before gunshots echoed in the room. Alastor glowered disdainfully at his henchman, who appeared to have absolutely no remorse for its behavior as it blew him a kiss before disappearing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a few moments, the only sound he could hear was the hammering of his heart in his ears.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~    ~ ~    ~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The noises filling the sitting area of the old café were grotesque in nature as the cannibal deer tore open the corpses to get to the freshly quiet hearts. Valentino wasn't one to partake in that kind of flesh, so he sat and admired how skillfully Alastor could get to the organs. Something was bothering him though. Or rather, it appeared that his date had something on his mind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Bambi?" The moth inquired, his voice just a hint concerned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor stopped, politely swallowing a mouthful of muscles, "Yes? What is it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ya uh...ya aight? Ya seemed a lil' off after I finished off the other three." Valentino watched him closely, trying to judge if he was imagining it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The crimson demon's eyes flicked down for a moment before he grinned, "I'm just fine, but your worry is very gentlemanly."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino knew bullshit when he smelled it, narrowing his eyes slightly. Whatever it was, Alastor wasn't comfortable in divulging it just yet. He could wait. "Aight, is there anythin' in particular ya wanna do after this?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The deer paused at the question, taking another shameless bite out of the heart in his hands to think it over. After a minute he gave a bloody smile, "Nothing that I can think of."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The pimp was quiet for a minute, struggling to come up with any idea to turn their date back around. It was starting to sour and he couldn't even figure out where it went wrong. His eyes darted to the microphone at Alastor's side, stopping a moment before lighting up with an idea.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Aye Bambi, ya like dancin', right?" Valentino's mouth opened wide to flash his gold-tooth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor's neck bent sharply to his right as he narrowed his eyes at the question. He appeared to consider the implications before slowly nodding. "What did you have in mind?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The moth was feeling more pleased with his quick thinking. "Just me and ya here." He got up and extended an upper claw out to his date.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The scarlet sinner stared at the appendage, fighting with whatever must've been bothering him if the furrow between his brows was anything to go by. Cautiously he put his own hand in Valentino's claw and stood, keeping himself at an arm's distance. "...if you have a certain song in mind, you may tell my microphone directly."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino didn't like the coldness seeping into Alastor's body language but didn't want to push his luck either. He let go of his hand so he could move closer to the mic, noticing its eye for the first time. It squinted at him with clear suspicion as he leaned down to it, hiding his mouth from the radio host's view so he couldn't read his lips. Whispering the song to the magical item, he could see its single eye seem to process the request for him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Coming back up, he took Alastor's hand again and smiled down at him with some sympathy, "Follow my lead, Bambi. A heads up though, the song can get risqué."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tense sinner huffed in response, looking not entirely pleased by the reveal but was jostled when the song started and Valentino began moving.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I like the way that your body move all over the floor (na na na)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'd like to find a way to get lost in you (yeah yeah yeah)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I wanna talk to ya, baby, say what's on your mind</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Girl tell me anything that you wanna do (yeah yeah yeah) </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ain't we all just looking for some loving tonight?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Got a crazy feeling that I've hit you just right</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor was stiff at first, clearly unsure of the quick footwork that his dance partner presented. He was a surprisingly adept learner though, as the more they moved the easier and more confident his steps became. Valentino grinned, being certain to keep it basic as he watched the deer come alive in his arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The brightside to eternal damnation was all the free time you could make use of. In Valentino's case, he had picked up some dancing from the variety of demons that had worked for him. The cha cha was an energetic and exciting latin dance, one that he was extremely fond of.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Try me in the morning when the sun comes rising up</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Try me in the afternoon, bet you just can't get enough</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Try me in the evening, satisfaction guaranteed</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Baby, I got what you need, you gotta try me</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino chuckled softly as he watched the fluffy ears fold a fraction towards Alastor's head. He figured that the smaller sinner must've picked up on the not-so subtle insinuations in the lyrics. Yet still, they continued dancing together, slowly gravitating closer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Let's go and find a place and get to know each other more (na na na)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It's all on your face, I know you like what you see (yeah yeah yeah)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm the one for you, baby, but you can take your time</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Let the music bring your body to me (yeah yeah yeah)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ain't we all just looking for some loving tonight?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Got a crazy feeling that I've hit you just right</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor's body fit nicely in his arms, the sensation of having him so close as they moved together felt electrifying. He always considered dancing to be akin to sex, but never had he felt as aroused as when the deer demon followed his lead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So try me in the morning when the sun comes rising up</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Try me in the afternoon, bet you just can't get enough</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Try me in the evening, satisfaction guaranteed</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Baby, I got what you need, you gotta try me (I know)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I got what you need you gotta try me</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His desire only surmounted itself with every passing second, thoughts getting muddled as lust weaved its way in his movements. Alastor was so involved in the dancing that he didn't seem to notice how they pressed against each other, the crimson deer grinning so beautifully.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bring that body closer, I wanna feel your skin up on mine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Like I already know ya, I'm grabbin' that ass from behind</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As we dutty wine, I got chills down my spine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As we dutty wine, girl, we might be meant to be</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So try me in the morning when the sun comes rising up</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Try me in the afternoon, bet you just can't get enough</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Try me in the evening, satisfaction guaranteed</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I got what you need, you gotta try me</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I got what you need you gotta try me</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As the music finally came to an end, their panting replaced the words in the dusty room. Alastor looked up at him, delight shining in those wonderfully vibrant eyes as he laughed. The sound brought Valentino's attention to the dangerous rows of teeth and the lips surrounding them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Without a moment's notice, the pimp leaned down and captured that laughter with a passionate kiss. He tasted blood and flesh on Alastor's mouth, but he didn't care, only wanting to enjoy the moment while it lasted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Far sooner than he liked, the iron-rich taste was replaced by...nothing. His body cried out at the sudden absence of the deer's heat. Opening his glazed over eyes, he stared down at the spot where Alastor stood to find it empty. In fact, looking around, there was no trace of the Radio Demon to be found. He frowned in confusion, before the reality of what he'd mindlessly done sucker punched him in the gut.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was lucky to be alive where he stood.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>~The song used in this chapter is "Try Me" by Jason Derulo~</p>
<p>Hopefully I'm over this funk and can get back to writing more regularly!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Emotional Earthquake, Bring On Disaster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alastor's microphone has some blunt words for its owner, and its going to be heard whether the Radio Demon likes it or not.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you again for all the sweet, encouraging comments! I'm doing my best to go at a healthier pace, especially because I'd hate to drive the quality of my work down when I love bring you guys all the fuzzy good feelings! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the third consecutive day, the radio station was playing non-stop jazz. It felt hollow to the ears, emotionless and devoid of any real thought to it. Husk nursed a bottle of booze with a grimace, the dull music wearing him down despite how early in the day it was for him.</p><p> </p><p>There was no sign of Alastor after the night of his date, Niffty confirming that he hadn't been back yet whenever she cleaned his room. Husk knew not to worry, especially because the Radio Demon could handle anything that Hell threw. But...he still didn't like not knowing what was going on.</p><p> </p><p>At first he'd been smug, thinking that against all odds Alastor had stayed the night with the moth demon. But when morning bled into evening, then crawled into the next day, unease began to claw at him. The cannibal couldn't have killed Valentino, he'd have heard about it from Angel. He'd tried to call into the station's landline on the second day, only for it to be disconnected. Alastor was obviously at the radio tower but, for some reason, he wanted to be alone. </p><p> </p><p>Husk sighed as he polished off the bottle in his grasp. If the perpetual smile-wearing sinner was in a known safe location, and Valentino wasn't dead, then maybe it was better that he wait to see what happened. He'd help the bossy demon if he came to him, but it was clear that his assistance wasn't needed. At least for the time being.</p><p> </p><p>~    ~    ~    ~</p><p> </p><p>Daylight from the single window in the studio was the only thing keeping it from being plunged into darkness. A heap of filched hotel blankets lay in the corner, the mountain of cloth muffling the soft hiss of static coming from inside the pile. Fabric shifted until a hand was revealed, pushing away blankets so that the deer-ear demon underneath could climb out.</p><p> </p><p>Sweat slicked hair clung to his flushed skin, his usually fluffy ears mussed worse than the hair surrounding them. The area under his eyes looked heavy with lack of sleep, darkened and drooping. His bare shoulders followed his head out of the heap, then torso leading the way of his waist and legs. Only rumpled, plaid boxers gave him a shred of modesty, but even that was tainted by the damp stains on the front. </p><p> </p><p>Alastor whimpered at the ache in his groin as he gingerly got onto his feet, knees buckling at the unpleasant gravity. He squinted at the clock on the wall, his voice raspy from near perpetual whining, "...what day is it?"</p><p> </p><p>The microphone staff sitting in its stand came to life, its eye rolling obnoxiously at its owner as it answered, "You've been out of it for nearly three days! I had to do all the station work by myself, so you should be ever so grateful!"</p><p> </p><p>The radio host cringed at the fact slapped in his face. "Terribly sorry...I don't know what came over me." Shame filled his voice as he smiled wearily at the floor, tiptoeing around the elephant in the room.</p><p> </p><p>"I know, what a scandalous lie! He knows exactly what, or rather <em>who</em>, came over him!" the mic exclaimed with quite the attitude, making Alastor's head snap up to glare at it. His shadowy minion, the source of at least one of his problems, sat beside the staff blatantly gesturing in his direction. </p><p> </p><p>He snarled in annoyance, "You! This is your fault! Had you just <em> moved </em>out of his way then I wouldn't be such...such a mess!"</p><p> </p><p>"Fiddlesticks, it isn't its wrongdoing! You're the one who should've established that boundary!" His staff butted in defensively for the henchman. The inky figure nodded quickly in agreement, crossing the silhouette of arms stubbornly.</p><p> </p><p>Alastor gasped, flabbergasted to be teamed up against by the instruments he was supposed to control. "<em> Excusez-vous?! </em>I think you are very much to blame, acting no better than Angel Dust, all clingy and goo-goo eyed." He huffed, throwing up his hands.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh please!" The mic's eye gave him a scrutinizing once-over. "Would you look at yourself? One teensy peck and you have an absolute fit! And are you forgetting something? It can't do anything that you don't like or want, so what does that say about yourself?"</p><p> </p><p>The scarlet sinner flushed bright enough to compete with his hair for the most red feature he possessed. His static went in and out, as if stuttering at the accusation. Switching his attention between the smug shadow and the rotten microphone, he sputtered incoherently in denial.</p><p> </p><p>Alastor turned away from the traitorous pair, his tail tense as he shunned them in favor of finding his clothes. He spotted them strewn about the studio, grumbling as he went about gathering each item. His staff continued to blather on, likely still prattling about him either to the blackened minion or himself directly, but he cared not to pay attention. </p><p> </p><p>Shoes were lying beside the broken cord to his landline, the end appearing to be wedged in the outlet like it had been kicked. Slacks were balled up by the pile of blankets, his nose scrunching as he caught the scent of dried slick. Shirt was interwoven in the heap, as if a necessary addition to the nest-like collection. </p><p> </p><p>He had almost collected all the items, only having trouble with locating his socks, when the microphone yelled at him, "Do not ignore me!"</p><p> </p><p>The Radio Demon whipped around, sounding like a petulant child with the way his tone raised, "I will do as I please! I did nothing wrong!"</p><p> </p><p>"Well then neither did your shadow! You're just too ashamed of your emotions to admit that you like that overlord's touch! Nay! You <em> love </em> it!" The mic proclaimed matter-of-factly, like some self-righteous psychologist.</p><p> </p><p>Alastor's eyes felt like they would pop out of his head, his hands immediately covering his ears. He would not hear anymore of this nonsense as he started humming to himself to block out the staff. He had half a mind to just break the thing and find a model that wouldn't give him backtalk.</p><p> </p><p>He paced in a circle, trying to fight the urge to snap the microphone. He hated the thought of having to go through the trouble of getting a new one when he had his for so long already. So lost in his distracting behavior, that he almost didn't notice the increasingly loud sound slipping beneath his palm barricades. <em> Almost. </em></p><p> </p><p>Abruptly turning, he stared in confusion as for the first time his mic had gone about personally choosing a song. The soft volume of jazz in the background of the studio had been replaced by the plucking of guitar strings, followed by the sweet singing of a young woman.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You know just what to say </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Things that scares me, I should just walk away </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But I can't move my feet </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The more that I know you, the more I want to </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Something inside me's changed </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I was so much younger yesterday </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The deer's ears flicked rapidly, the words faintly familiar but distant in his brain. His eyes turned into slits of suspicion, his gut telling him that he wouldn't like where this was going. Skimming through his memory, he could only place the song as one requested by some sinner or another. A forgettable tune for him, but he couldn't help but feel some sense of dread in the music. Why was he fearing such a simple melody?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I didn't know that I was starving till I tasted you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Don't need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> By the way, by the way, you do things to my body </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I didn't know that I was starving till I tasted you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs, the relatability of the lyrics kicking him square in the heart. He lunged for the staff, fully intent on doing anything to stop the wretched song from continuing on his station, but wasn't as fast as his shadow sitting beside it. The inky henchman made a grab for it, swiftly moving out of the way.</p><p> </p><p>"Give it to me! Stop that song this instANT!" His voice broke shrilly at the end of the mandate, the flustered horror outweighing his need to be commanding.</p><p> </p><p>The shadow continued to elude him, using its powers to move from corner to ceiling and up the wall in order to keep the microphone from his grasp. All the while, the music continued to play from his equipment for all of those tuned in to witness.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You know just how to make my heart beat faster </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Emotional earthquake, bring on disaster </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You hit me head-on, got me weak in my knees </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Yeah, something inside me's changed </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I was so much younger yesterday </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So much younger yesterday </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Just as the desperate demon had barely managed to touch the end of his staff, the pair vanished. Falling to his knees, he trembled at the song still mockingly playing his innermost turmoil in the studio.  </p><p> </p><p>He knew that as much as he tried to say otherwise, his thoughts had been consumed by the moth demon as his body screamed and ached with need. The taste of fresh kill being passed between their mouths and how intoxicating the towering sinner smelled. The way those claws had tenderly touched the likeness of his ears or how utterly right it felt to be embraced by those arms. Valentino was like an addictive delicacy. He couldn't get enough and his ravenous appetite only demanded more.</p><p> </p><p>But what if he didn't <em> want </em> to want more. What if, for the first time in Hell, he was terrified of his own hunger?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>~The song played is "Starving" by Hailee Steinfeld, Grey, Zedd~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Salt-Stained Shag Carpet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Valentino's glasses may be in tact, but the heart in his chest doesn't mirror that in the slightest. Can a moth go insane from too much jazz?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've been having fun playing with a meme generator on my Twitter, and want to start including some at the end of chapters, but this chapter doesn't feel the most appropriate place to start.</p>
<p>Warning, tol boi was very much hurt in the making of this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Valentino managed to get back home, but fuck if he had any idea how. Everything after Alastor had disappeared felt like a haze that offered no permanence in his memory. He was only sure of the cold emptiness swallowing him from the inside out. Within half a day, he knew without a doubt that any shred of a chance he had was destroyed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His claws had been gripping onto an invisible thread of hope, until he had turned on the radio that next morning. With every monotonous jazz number that passed, he could feel that thread slipping from him and into the chasm that seemed to grow between loneliness and the glimmer of hope he could've sworn he'd been blessed a glimpse of.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He fucked up. There wasn't use in denying it. Too caught up in his own desires that he forgot Vox's best piece of advice. 'Look, but don't touch'. Alastor was a raging blaze, elegant and enticing but step too close and it would only cause him pain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By afternoon, he'd locked himself up in his room with only the dull thrum of jazz to mask the pathetic sounds from under his blankets. As the day limped into the evening, the sheets became too uncomfortably damp to lay on, forcing him onto the shag carpet. Restraint was stretched thin as his digits grew eager to claw the mouth that had betrayed every wish he'd made on star-shaped glitter.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The hours bled into one another, the achingly empty music on the station muddling his sense of time. It was soulless, without a hint of the signature flare that Alastor's songs always had. He seemed to have killed the Radio Demon in a way that angel weapons could only dream of. His thoughtlessness extinguished the bright soul, leaving a shell. What had he been thinking?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn't been thinking. That much was clear at least. If there had been even a moment of clarity, he'd have derailed that train hard enough to knock out the arousal disguised as its conductor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His tumultuous spiral down was interrupted by knocking. He checked in mentally, just enough to hear Vox's worry leaking through the wood of his door. Focusing on the words took too much effort as he listened to the electric rise and clicking drops in the TV demon's tone and volume. There was a heavy fume of coffee and eggs coming from underneath indicating that it was morning, but the food just made his nausea more pronounced.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His hunger only wanted to gorge itself on Alastor. To feast so lovingly and leave not a single inch unclaimed by his passion, but he'd shot that chance down as accurately as he had those wannabe thugs. Thoughts swayed back towards the deer demon's smiles that evening, bringing fresh tears to his eyes at the idea of not experiencing that again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The arsony had been an unexpected hitch in their plans, but he hadn't minded as the date went on. Talking on the way to the cafe, he'd felt almost human again. As if he was taking the cute sinner to meet his mamí rather than to put some caps to rest in their respective fleshy graves. Now though, he idly wondered how much snow he'd have to snort to stop feeling this all consuming heartache.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually the television static and hiss went away, the space only occupied by the radio that still refused to play anything that even whispered that all was alright. His eyes went dry as the day dragged itself on, stomach roaring for sustenance but twisting in revulsion at the thought of eating.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A chunk of him, that kept growing as seconds turned to minutes, wished he had never opened his heart to begin with. Vulnerability made him weak. Caused him to lay face down on salt-stained carpet, muscles knotted with thick tension. His claw ran through the shag, reminding him of the sensation of the shadowy ear of Alastor's minion.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What a curiously excitable thing it was. Pulling on him and looking childlike with its eagerness to help. His brain didn't think twice before reaching out for those inky black ears, desperate to find out if they were soft at all. The pleased expression it wore in reply had done something ticklish to his heart, but at the moment he'd been too bent on revenge to appreciate it fully.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rolling over onto his back, he stared up at the ceiling painted with promise of another soul-crushing morning. He knew he had work to be done, turf to consider, but he didn't have the will to move more than he had. At some point his hellphone vibrated up on his nightstand, strings of notifications making it dance on the wood. Certain that it was Velvet, yet he couldn't be bothered to confirm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hiding his eyes against the skin of a forearm, his ears became more aware of the music faintly playing from his radio. Would he ever be able to hear jazz without thinking of the lively deer? Probably not. Associating the two was normal as it is, but the ache that accompanied it was new.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to see if he could tell when another song began, but it felt nonstop in its melding of sounds. Trombone married drums at one point and fought further on. Saxophone made sweet tender love with the piano then trotted away hurriedly. Trumpets screamed at the bass before howling in sorrow later.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Was it possible to go insane from too much jazz. What would even constitute as 'too much'? Weakly sighing, he felt his stomach threaten him with another painful growl and lurching combination. Food of any variety didn't sound appealing, though he was aware it had been days since his last meal.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shook hard, tears long gone from his reserve. Everything hurt and he just wanted it to be over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The usual plucking of bass in the room seemed to transform into a guitar, making him laugh at his own delusion. When the young woman started singing though, he sat up far quicker than was safe. None of the previous songs were lyrical in nature. Was this it? Is this the point where his mind had broken and he was only imagining the voice?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sounded so endearing in his head, crooning about love the way youth would. It made the pangs in his chest worse, but then came the final blow. The auditory mirage of a siren was singing about her ignorance to her own cravings. Desires unleashed after tasting a lover. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tasting</span>
  </em>
  <span>? He blinked, then blinked again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly his head turned towards his radio, the light a beacon in his room. It appeared to grow closer until he became aware that he was crawling on hands and knees to the box. He stared as layers began to strip from the festering wounds on his heart. Sorrow. Yearning. Regret. Disapproval. Each shed of pain brought it closer to the core. Hope.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"...Bambi?"</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Beneath the Milky Twilight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Valentino doesn't want to let their first date be their last, so he'll fix things himself. Even if he has to embarrass himself in the process.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Work and adulting made it difficult to write this last week, but I cranked it out! I hope you all enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Slamming of wood against the wall echoed down the hall as Valentino's bedroom door was yanked open. The moth was running on fumes and wishful thinking after going seventy-two hours without sleep or food. He shouldn't be upright at all, let alone this energized, but he was on a mission.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He strode down the long hall and towards the cacophony of television static, faint humming, and idle beatboxing. Not even bothering to knock, he walked right into Vox's room. Where one might expect posters or paintings, there were screens of various channels all set to just barely be audible. Vox sat on his bed with a laptop in front of him as his screen's mouth glitched in time with his beatboxing. The TV demon barely glanced up before grunting, his face flicking over to a skull emoji.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yo man, you look like fucking shit. Did you even sleep at all?" Vox's face came back on, his concerned eyes taking in the moth's exhausted form.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Valentino shook his head, too busy scanning the room to make eye contact with the demon staring him down. Out of his peripheral he could see Vox frowning intensely at him. "Nah. I fucked things up, but I guess not as bad as I thought? I'll tell ya later. Thanks though, for comin' by to check on me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vox shuffled uncomfortably on his bed, shrugging like the kind gesture meant little to him. "...whatever, figured some shit went down is all. You never came by after and I could only hear that shit music coming from your room."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pimp flinched, the wounds still raw even if not nearly as deep as they had been before. "Ye...ye, some shit went down. But Ima fix it, that's for sure."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You need any help? Tech support or special effects maybe?" Vox seemed to relax a little, but talking indirectly about his rival could only be so relieving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Valentino turned to him, giving a reassuring grin. "I got this, Soap Dropera. Don't need to embarrass myself in front of ya too." He spotted what he was looking for among a pile of gadgets, crossing the room to snatch it up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vox cackled at the jab, the mouth on the screen opening to show off his 2D tongue, "fuck off, I've seen plenty of you as it is."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The comment made the spindly sinner tense up with the memories of stolen moments and late night sessions. His grin faltered. "Can ya do me a favor? Don't mention that shit in front of him. If I don't fuck this up, of course."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The jokester's laugh was cut off, an annoyed look crossing his screen. "What, you ashamed or some shit? You turning into a prude too?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Valentino sighed, forgetting for a moment how quick his amigo could get riled. "I ain't ashamed of it, but ya two have bad blood and I wanna be the one to tell him."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Whatever. Not like I'm eager to blab to him about shit that hasn't happened in a long ass time anyway." Vox turned his attention back to the laptop, but his body was rigid from the topic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moth demon looked at Vox for a moment, but he didn't want to potentially egg him on. Instead he walked over and gave him a soft shove to his shoulder, "Thanks. I'll pop by and update ya later." Vox only gave a noncommittal hum in reply as he left with the item.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Returning back to his room, he made haste in changing into something that didn't smell like three days of wallowing. He didn't want to look intimidating, assuming that Alastor was probably already shaken up from his bold action. Browsing through his closet, he passed the more expensive and formal clothes in favor of his casual wear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something that would put the deer to ease. An outfit that screamed he wasn't there to threaten his Bambi. Perhaps red on brown, much like Alastor's typical outfits. After all, mimicry could be used to catch a prey and in this case, he just needed to not be turned away. Spotting a combination he thought would be appealing, he got dressed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elevator ride down to the ground floor felt abnormally long, or maybe that was just his impatience talking. R&amp;B played from the overhead speakers, calming him down a fraction as some smooth baritone sang above him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stepped out when it reached the bottom and walked right past reception, having no intent to take the Pimp Mobile. This needed to be done right, and fuck if he was gonna get there on anything but his own two feet. The radio tower loomed just up ahead, drawing him in like a thoroughly-used comparison.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~    ~    ~    ~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Each of the pilfered blankets was folded up neatly in a stack, even though all were too far stained with sweat and other fluids to be used anytime soon. The deer demon sighed at the small tower, trying to rack his memory for when he could've possibly taken them. Anything between the kiss and when he regained ahold of himself was a messy tangle of whimpers and writhing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sensing a presence, he looked over to find his minion had finally returned with his staff. The pair seemed smug despite one only having an eye. Their reappearance made him snarl in warning, "here to apologize? Your insubordination was uncalled for."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My my! You look better than we left you!" His microphone pointedly ignored his question, looking him over with scrutiny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor had but a crumb of energy to summon himself a fresh outfit, though it was only flannel sleep pants and a tank. His body temperature was still high enough to make his normal ensemble unbearable to wear. "Yes, no thanks to your shenanigans. What kind of pot are you trying to stir here?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Me? Why, I was only saying what you're thinking! It's the least I could do to help!" The mic cut to some studio audience laughter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> was that supposed to help?! You...you just...UGH!" The radio host was seething, his grin tight at the corners but his eyes were starting to glisten. No. He wouldn't cry in front of this buffoon. "It doesn't matter. I am never going to see him again if it's the last thing I do." He nodded, as if that would shake the waver from his voice or the pang from his heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The staff made a noise, a harsh click that was not so subtly punctuated with doubt. "Sure thing, and that'll just make </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> your troubles disappear!" Its single eye rolled in place emphatically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It will, because I'm sure he's moved on by now. I just up and disappeared on him without a word. He hasn't been able to contact me in days. He has a line of demons who are literally begging to be with him. He doesn't need me." Alastor listed off each item on his fingers, and with each new one, it felt like salt was being poured into open cuts on his heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hurting Valentino was nowhere near the top of his list, but it was for the best. The farther he could distance himself from this foreign rushing of emotions, the easier it would be to get on with his existence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Interrupting his thoughts, his ears were suddenly up and at attention as they picked up something faint from outside. It was difficult, a low sound that could hardly penetrate the radio tower's walls. The curious sinner stepped closer to his door so he might make it out. There were...guitars strumming? Strings being played with a mellow cheer to its tempo.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kiss me out of the bearded barley</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nightly, beside the green, green grass</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Swing, swing, swing the spinning step</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You'll wear those shoes and I will wear that dress</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lead me out on the moonlit floor</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lift your open hand</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Silver moon's sparkling</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So kiss me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alastor moved on pure gut instinct as he came close to tearing his door off its hinges when he heard the singing. Outside, the source of all his current problems was standing on the sidewalk and holding what appeared to be a small boombox, as the youngins called it. His ears zeroed in on the music, confirming that it was coming from the device.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kiss me down by the broken tree house</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Swing me, upon its hanging tire</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We'll take the trail marked on your father's map</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lead me out on the moonlit floor</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lift your open hand</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Silver moon's sparkling</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So kiss me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Valentino's eyes were brighter than any star he'd ever seen, hopeful and alive with some electric emotion he couldn't pinpoint. His smile was wide but vulnerable, its perimeter trembling with uncertainty as he laid his feelings out for all to witness. Still, he held the device above his head and stared back at Alastor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Feeling his knees wobble and face grow ten degrees too hot, Alastor had to look anywhere but the overlord's expression. And that's when he saw it. He noticed the bubbles in his throat far too late, unable to restrain the fit of giggles that broke free. The long-limbed moth was wearing the most hideous red shirt, white flowers printed across the fabric. Not only that, but his soft blue and skinny legs were noticeably exposed with the aid of khaki cargo shorts and open-toed sandals.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The deer couldn't see the pimp through his tears, let alone hear him over the sound of his laughter, but without warning he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> Valentino standing in front of him. Glancing up, he wiped the moisture from his eyes as he stiffened. The demon dressed like some tropical tourist appeared as ragged as he felt. Eyes puffy and dragging circles underneath, his cologne faded to near non existent, dried trails staining his cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Valentino gave him a look so soft and tender that it made his heart shiver in some cross of fright and anticipation, "Bambi, can we talk?"</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>~The song used is "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Honesty is the Best Policy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Valentino has to right his wrongs, but he wasn't expecting it to be this hard.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I greatly appreciate everyone's patience as I juggle work and writing, and as always please enjoy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alastor had obviously been raised to have the common decency to offer his guest a place to sit, even if it was clearly summoned from the hotel with its gaudy apple-print cushion and ornate structure. He, however, chose to keep his studio chair as his sole option and take a seat. Valentino noted that along with Alastor's interesting choice of clothes, the radio host's body language made him appear like he'd been kidnapped. From bare feet to thighs that barely hid their jittery bouncing, the legs were so close that one might think he was a mer-stag. Rather than crossing behind his back, his arms were woven in front of his midsection as if there for protection or trapping something inside himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The muted blue guest didn't quite like how uncomfortable Alastor looked, but fixing that was precisely why he was here. He let his own posture loosen as much as he could, letting the deer know non-verbally that he was willing to be vulnerable. Taking a steadying breath, he did his best to ease his heart as it raced with nerves and a tinge of doubt. But weirdly, it only made the organ quicken in his chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Bambi, I came here to apologize to ya. Kissin' ya so suddenly was rude as fuck of me." Valentino glanced at Alastor's mouth a moment, the bottom lip being worked under razor teeth. "I shoulda gotten permission first." Alastor inhaled so sharply that Valentino wondered if he'd cut his throat with the air he took in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There were a few beats of rest between them, then the smaller sinner spoke up, "It was nothing for you to worry about, let alone come here for." The words were painted with indifference, but the façade was chipped to reveal more telling layers underneath. Alastor wasn't meeting his gaze, the arms tightening around his torso. His words warbled to the tune of the more pleasant anxiety.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino wasn't going to let Alastor off so easily, but he was at least going to be gentle with his approach. He was bringing an offering to the nervous deer, not a loaded gun. "It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> somethin'. I shoulda respected ya boundaries, even in the heat of the moment." He bent forward, closing the gap between them by a minute amount, but enough that his pulse was giddy. Something sweet and inviting lingered in the air between them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The demon in red was growing redder in the face, but it didn't seem to be out of anger. "The heat of the moment?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know I don't have the best reputation, but I don't intend to do anythin' that would make ya hate bein' near me." Valentino observed his host shift in his seat like he wanted to bolt. "I got carried away with the moment and let all my excitement get to me. I was...really happy to dance with ya."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor's movements stilled briefly. He didn't stop the light nibbling of his lip, but the rest of his body had been put on pause. Crimson eyes flickered to him and moved over his face as if prodding him to carry on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shuffling very carefully, Valentino migrated with a snail's pace until he was kneeling on the cold tiles of the studio. All the while, he didn't break eye contact with the powerful sinner in front of him. Alastor could easily tear him open right now if he desired, and at the moment the overlord didn't think he'd mind. Being taken out by the one who'd unintentionally branded his heart would be the highest privilege.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Please forgive me, Bambi. I'll do anythin' to prove how sorry I am."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~    ~    ~    ~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The moths in his stomach were threatening to burst from inside of him, their flapping driving him mad with anxiety from the second he'd let Valentino inside the studio. Being this close to the pimp was a mistake, the faint scent of cologne making his head murky. He couldn't bring himself to lock eyes with his guest, certain that if he did then the carnal expert would know every vulgar thought his rut-riddled brain had probably produced. It was a ridiculous fear to hold, but it wasn't worth risking either.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And now, here the overconfident pimp was, on his knees asking for forgiveness as if his host was a merciful deity. Alastor's saliva felt thicker, unable to tear his gaze away. Valentino looked silly in his outfit, but the new position was stirring up the moths into a frenzy. Had this exchange occurred a month earlier, he'd likely be feasting on those long limbs for supper. But now, he was feeling a hunger that was beginning to become familiar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Getting up from his chair, he walked like a newborn fawn on unsteady legs towards Valentino. Even on knees, the demon had an imposing aura, but his eyes made up for it. They were watching Alastor while radiating anticipation, as if the flame he'd been desperately chasing after was coming closer of its own accord.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor stopped himself just in front of the begging sinner, feeling their breaths mingle in the limited space between them. Surely, his pounding heart could be felt as their chests brushed together. "Do you really mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino gawked at him, entranced by the burning intensity of their closeness. It took a moment longer than desired for the pimp to give an agreeing nod.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The last few inches separating their lips was swept away with little hesitation, small hands grabbing onto shoulders to keep his pajama clad legs from giving out. He growled, the taste of iron pooling on his tongue. Eagerness had made him clumsier, slicing himself on his teeth in his rush to savor the sensation he'd been treated to previously. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While it could be the lingering effects of his early rut, he wasn't able to deny that it probably wasn't just that. Valentino made him feel warm in ways he didn't know he could, but he wanted more. He desired to be burnt up by the moth's attention. Craved to know if the immense demon could make his body sing as loudly as his heart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Abruptly, he was shoved away and it caused him to whimper at the loss of touch. Valentino was panting faintly, his absurdly lengthy tongue swiped up the blood around his mouth and made a burst of magma erupt between Alastor's hips. The deer could feel the evidence of Valentino's arousal against his stomach, only making him more confused by the rejection.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The overlord's brows furrowed some as he kept him at an arm's length. "Bambi, I want ya, believe me when I say I do. But not like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His tone had the scarlet sinner more frustrated as his smile tightened, "What do you mean by </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I mean...I can smell it, least now that ya so close. I know pheromones better than most of the lot in Hell." Valentino seemed to be struggling, his lips pulled back in a pained grimace as he trembled from the effort it took to restrain himself. "It'd be so fucking easy to just give in to ya scent. But I don't want ya because ya easy." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The quivering moth shifted so that his tent wasn't pressed against Alastor, the obvious throbbing a bit distracting for the walking bottle of pheromones. Clearing his throat, Valentino continued, "I wanna fight tooth and nail for the honor of makin' ya scream my name, Bambi. I wanna make love to ya until ya legs don't work and ya can't even remember ya name. More importantly...I want ya to want it of ya own volition, not because it's that time of the year."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor felt the gears in his mind jam all at once. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Make love. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The owner of Porn Studios, king of coitus, and purveyor of perversions didn't want to simply fornicate. He wanted to make love to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the Radio Demon. The gravity of the words dragged him onto the floor so that he could accompany his guest on the tiles, the coolness a relief to his achingly hot body.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The slaughterer of sinners had gone weak for a sinner who likely couldn't tell you how many partners he'd had, let alone all of their names. Yet, he was finding that the more they interacted, the less it mattered. After his initial distrust dissipated, he found it difficult to believe the efforts weren't genuine. Valentino appeared to put a great deal of thought to everything he did for Alastor. From song choices to what kind of gifts would suit him, the overlord was proving to be persistent with his charms</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pressing his forehead to Valentino's torso, he hid the near skin-splitting grin on his face. "I'll forgive you on one condition...my daring suitor. I would like to have another go at an outing with you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The suitor in question lowered his voice to a gentle timber, "It would be my pleasure, Bambi."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. On the Outside Looking In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The budding pair is still getting their footing down, but are those around them as supportive as they seem?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all so much for your patience. It saddens me not being able to update frequently, but I'm still very much here and wanting to write &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The static that crackled in the air was the first warning of <em> his </em> arrival, making Husk still in the middle of putting a barstool up. His radio behind the bar zipped to life, its dial rapidly twisting back and forth until lighting up an ominous red.</p><p> </p><p>"<em> H U S K E R,  M Y  D E A R~" </em>The raspy beckon coming from its speaker caused all of his fur to stand on end. Husk backed up in a rush. He hadn't heard from the freakish deer in days, so what was with the creepy return?</p><p> </p><p>Husk turned, fully prepared to hightail it and get plastered, when his insides felt a familiar sensation, like everything was being flipped upside down and pulled through a pipe drain. He hissed, squeezing his eyes shut at the disturbing feeling. When his guts settled back in what he only hoped were their rightful places, he opened his eyes with annoyance.</p><p> </p><p>The recognizable interior of the radio tower greeted him, the typically professional atmosphere disrupted by a tower of neatly folded blankets. Nauseating apple patterns on a nearby chair made him double take at the stack, noticing that those too were from the hotel.</p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck? So Niffty wasn't imagining it!" Husk found himself bristling, peeved in particular to be suddenly transported. "If ya were popping by the place, why couldn't ya have let us known ya were alive?" He whipped around to growl, feeling a presence behind him. The sight and scent that assaulted him, however, squashed the growl in his throat as he immediately covered his nose.</p><p> </p><p>Alastor looked like he'd gotten the shit kicked out of him by insomnia, then mugged for his suit and only found the sleepwear of a lumberjack's twink boyfriend as a replacement. And his <em> smell </em>. It was sickeningly sweet yet spiced and musky, like letting a cinnamon hard candy sit for weeks on the forest floor.</p><p> </p><p>Husk grunted, "Holy fuck, Al. A little early for this shit, ain't it?" His fur flattened back out while he was starting to feel a bit guilty for snapping.</p><p> </p><p>Alastor's smile was strained with exhaustion but his eyes looked oddly bright. "Right you are, Husk. It was somewhat premature in nature, but never mind that. I need your help."</p><p> </p><p>Husk narrowed his eyes at the avoidance. "What happened? I ain't helping with shit until ya explain why-wait. It was Valentino, wasn't it? What did he do, drug ya?" He scowled. He shouldn't have expected anything less from the pimp.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly though, Alastor leaned forward so their faces were nearly touching, the grin on his face threaded with barely held disgust. "You will refrain from slandering him, Husker. His reputation may suggest that, but his entrails would be all over Hell if that were true. Isn't that right?"</p><p> </p><p>Husk swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he stared into the deer's eyes. "Uh...fuck, guess that's true." He could feel his tail winding through his legs, not liking the vibes coming off Alastor.</p><p> </p><p>Alastor continued to remain threateningly in his bubble for a few more nerve-wracking moments before snapping back to his preferred posture. Clearing his throat, he looked off at a spot on the wall, "Not that it is any of your business, but I know the curiosity would just <em> kill </em>you." He chuckled at his own taunt, then glanced back at Husk, "...he kissed me."</p><p> </p><p>The cat demon felt as if his eyes had broken, unable to even blink at the whiplash of a confession. "Valentino kissed ya? The Radio Demon? A cannibal? He kissed ya? Like...on the mouth?"</p><p> </p><p>The sinner in interrogation swatted at him, huffing as his face grew flushed. "Yes! Why is that less believable than him drugging me?" His smile seemed to ease, though it wobbled with obvious awkwardness over the subject.</p><p> </p><p>Husk's brain finally caught up with him, its processing water-logged by booze and dulled by the ever present desire to not exist. "...holy fuck, ya got put into heat by a kiss?"</p><p> </p><p>Alastor screeched in horror, clearly not expecting his begrudging minion to put it so bluntly, "<em>Hobjlbob?! </em>Have you no tact?!" His hands rushed to hide his face from view.</p><p> </p><p>The drunkard guffawed, "Bullseye! He kissed ya and ya went into heat! Fuck, that's rich!" Bending over, he steadied himself on furry knees as he rocked with laughter. Picturing the proper deer getting so flustered over a simple gesture was the most hilarious thing he'd heard in awhile, and that's with knowing that Niffty once got trapped in Angel Dust's laundry hamper.</p><p> </p><p>Alastor didn't seem to agree as he stomped a bare foot, summoning a shadowy tentacle to wrap around his companion's mouth. He sighed in exasperation, trying to wipe the reddened shame from his face. "Now. As I was saying. I need your help, Husker." The gagged demon grunted into the tentacle, telling him to spit it out then.</p><p> </p><p>The deer demon beamed, showing off his teeth. "I want your opinions on some...entertainment."</p><p> </p><p>~    ~    ~    ~</p><p> </p><p>As soon as he was back in the penthouse, Val made a mothline for the kitchen, only to walk right into Vox. The TV demon sputtered, choking on a spoonful of cereal he had just put into his ghoulish mouth. Beside him, Velvet reached up and slapped on his back roughly, even while looking like Krampusnacht had come early.</p><p> </p><p>"Shit, what are ya two doin' here?" Val stepped back, his eyes travelling to the twin bowls of cereal. </p><p> </p><p>Vox held his bowl closer to his chest as he got his breathing back under his control. "Fucking hell, pay attention to where you're walking, dipshit." His screen flickered, his expression turning to a scowl.</p><p> </p><p>The taller demon snarled at the attitude, pushing him aside to get into the kitchen. "<em> Perdonamé, </em>fuckwad, but this is my place."</p><p> </p><p>"Ye, but we live here too, fucker." Vox couldn't help the ice creeping into his tone, still sour over the deer-sized elephant in the room.</p><p> </p><p>Val turned to look back at him, squinting with displeasure. "Naw dumbass, ya live in ya room if ya not out doin' business. So fuck off if I ain't expectin' ya in the kitchen." Turning back, he started rummaging through the cupboards.</p><p> </p><p>Vox let out an electric hiss of a sigh, "The fuck you looking for?" Feeling movement to his side, he saw Velvet go and hop up on a nearby counter. She smiled with glee, obviously amused by their bickering.</p><p> </p><p>The lecherous overlord continued with his search, not bothering to look at his compadre while he was talking. "My fuckin' recipe book. Thought I put it here."</p><p> </p><p>A freezing jolt raced up Vox's spine as the casual comment tripped a frayed nerve. "...whatcha need that thing for?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm gonna have Bambi over, duh. Reminds me, ya two need to be sparse tomorrow night." The muffled indifference while Val searched further into the cupboard made a hot spark burst in the electricity riddled demon.</p><p> </p><p>Velvet slumped with a pout, but otherwise made no move for her hellphone to object the command. Vox, however, felt like he might blow up. First, he was scolded for making a stupid joke, and now, he was getting kicked out of his own home so his best friend could fraternize with his long time rival.</p><p> </p><p>Taking a hefty spoon of sugar-sweet balls, he busied his mouth with their crunchy texture to keep from saying anything out loud. His screen flickered and vibrated in his frustration. He'd been willing to help his buddy land a date, certain the fuddy duddy doe wouldn't go for another anyway, but did he really want Alastor popping up all the time?</p><p> </p><p>Growling to himself, he took his bowl with him as he stomped back to his room. The dull thrum of television audio did little to soothe him while his eyes scanned his closet for anything of interest among his usual dark suits. Spotting a flash of deep violet glitter, his neon grin grew. </p><p> </p><p>If Val wanted him to disappear for awhile tomorrow, then he sure as fuck was going to make the time worth it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Dressed to the Nines</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everybody is getting dressed up for a night that is sure to be remembered.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's been a hot minute since this updated, but I've most certainly not abandoned it! I'm back to full-time hours for the time being, but I'm working on arranging my schedule so I can write still. Especially since Valastor Week will be upon us in nearly a month! I do plan on participating in it, and ambitiously so, as I'd like to do SFW &amp; NSFW one-shots for the week. Stay tuned, fellow Hazbins!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Glass windows all along the front of the Porn Studios tower gleamed a sinful shade of vermillion as the Hell sky shifted to dusk. Alastor craned his neck far back to squint up at the top of the edifice as equally imposing as its owner. Sure, his radio tower was large, but that was for the purpose of broadcasting his station.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He took a deep breath to try and prepare himself, ignoring the heavy perfume and cologne scent that seemed to perpetually creep around the turf. It was as if every demonic subordinate under Valentino felt the need to drench themselves in the stuff. All except Angel Dust, who Alastor discovered was more sensitive to certain smells. He even had the pleasure of warding away the nuisant spider by hiding peppermint candies among his pockets whenever he was sure to be around him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stepping through the entry doors, he tensed at the overwhelming proximity of television hum in the building. He knew there would be an outlandish electronic presence, but it made his skin crawl just strolling to the elevator. Ignoring the pointed stares and gasps of the sinners that worked there, the cardinal radio host pressed the call button and tapped his toe patiently.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the car arrived at the first floor, Alastor could already feel his irritation pile high in response to the overbearing thrum that jostled and boiled the blood in his veins. Sure enough, when the doors opened, Vox was leaning against the back wall with hellphone in hand. His everyday suit was replaced by a pair of charcoal leather pants topped with a black tee, cut to sit above abdominal muscles that were organic in appearance yet mechanically structured. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The deer demon scrunched his nose as he read the violet glitter cursive on the top aloud, "Pound cake. How...tasteless of you." Despite his best effort, or rather minimal effort, he couldn't restrain the cattiness in him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Vox looked up from the screen in his hands, giving Alastor a once over. The old fashioned sinner knew he looked dapper in his maroon sweater vest over white long-sleeve combo, his deep chocolate slacks only rounding out the palette further.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The TV-headed annoyance snorted, getting off the wall to exit the elevator. His brightly lit mouth sneered as he stood face to face with his rival. "Thanks, Mister Rogers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tino</span>
  </em>
  <span> bought it for me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor felt the burning liquid in his body ice over instantly as Vox pushed passed him to leave the studio building. His teeth ground together as he got in and entered the code for the penthouse. He didn't like the incredibly </span>
  <em>
    <span>intimate</span>
  </em>
  <span> tone the televised hellion's words carried. Not one bit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a brief exchange, probably one of the quickest they'd had, but it had even more effect on him than usual. The freezing spread through to each limb as the car rode up, threatening to spoil their second date before it even started. As the elevator chimed, the doors opened and Alastor was fully prepared to confront Valentino about the supposed information. That was, until a lunging flash of vivid colors made him press up against the wall in his hurry to avoid physical contact.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Across from him was the lesser seen of the notorious V Squad, trying to keep her balance on a chunky pair of sandals as she gripped the banister. The cannibal cocked his head, taking note of her trading of black frills and lace for a hot pink flowery tank top and darkened red skirt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>¡Cuidado! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fuck Vel, why did ya wear them if ya can't walk?" Valentino scolded from the doors, keeping them open effortlessly with his bottom claws. Velvet huffed up at him as she wobbled on the shoes, trying to stubbornly stand up straight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tall moth rolled his eyes, even as his grin was lazily stretched on his face. "Whatever. I'm textin' reception to get ya some more suitable shoes before ya get down there. I'll be fuckin' damned if ya split ya head open for the sake of ya fashion choices." The digits of his upper-right claw blurred on his hellphone as he made good on his word.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When his gaze shifted over to his guest, he noticeably lit up, eyes roving over Alastor's outfit. "Damn Bambi, got that sexy professor thing goin' for ya. I can dig that~" He himself wore his usual coat, but peeking from underneath Alastor could see red leather shorts below a black mesh top that did nothing to hide a well toned torso.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The "sexy professor" in question felt heat inch its way up his neck, causing him to clear his throat. "Thank you, I think. I am a little earlier than we agreed upon. I hope you do not mind." He was hesitant to admit that he was anxious to see the overlord again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Velvet made a breathy snicker from her side of the compartment, her eyes darting between the two of them like a madwoman. Valentino snorted at her, reaching over to mess with her hair. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Cállate</span>
  </em>
  <span>, V-sama. Go have fun and I'll see ya later." He then extended that same claw over to Alastor, bowing slightly at the waist. "Now, for the guest of honor."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The antlered sinner was, dare he say, charmed by the chivalry as he took the claw and allowed for his host to guide him out of the elevator. When Valentino bent down, brushing his lips against his knuckles with the barest touch, Alastor felt his pulse skyrocket. He was hardly aware of the closing doors beside him, and only slightly conscious of the odd shutter sound before the car was going down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~    ~    ~    ~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The pimp led his smaller guest into his penthouse, the air thick with the aroma of spices and meat. He chuckled, hearing the cannibalistic foodie deeply inhale the rich scent of home cooked food. "Ya came just in time actually. I just set the food out. Had to fight the damn leeches off though, fuckin' tried to sneak a piece each and nearly lost their hands." Shaking his head, he felt an inner pocket start moving with vibrations. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Initial confusion was instantly squashed when the sound from earlier clicked his gears into action. The sound of a camera. Velvet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
  <span> A bloom of a headache was forming at his friend's lack of restraint, but he was now incredibly thankful that the radio host didn't do social media. He'd have to do damage control after dinner.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pushing those worries from his mind, he walked ahead to show the smartly dressed deer his dining room. His mouth spread in an easy grin as he bowed, waving his arm with flourish towards the setup. "Dinner is served~"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though he couldn't see Alastor's reaction, he heard a sound tinged with unexpected excitement come from his throat, hands coming together in a single delighted clap. "Magnolias!" The solitary word erupted out of the demon with all the enthusiasm of a small child finding themselves in a candy store.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino glanced up, unable to resist seeing for himself the clear expression of joy on his guest's face. "They're made of silk. I considered havin' 'em dyed red, but I thought ya would prefer the untouched white."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alastor fixed him with a silent gaze, his eyes shining with glee and softened by fondness. He stared at the thoughtful overlord for a few moments before disappearing. The sudden vanishing would've caused alarm, if it weren't for the nearly instantaneous reappearance in a seat at the table, the vase of silken flowers obviously moved to be directly in front of his plate.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The moth demon blinked at the sight, eyes getting fractionally wider each second as he sensed a building in his throat. He opened his mouth, assuming it to be a burst of laughter, only to be shocked at the high pitched chirp that sprang out. Clamping his teeth down, he shrugged off the equivalent of a teen girl squealing, even as Alastor wore a knowing smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever the Radio Demon thought of the sound, he kept it to himself and began digging into the plate of enchiladas before him. Valentino was immensely satisfied as he heard Alastor making small noises of pleasure while gobbling up the food. Snorting, the pimp took his place at the table, amused but also glad that he had the foresight to make enough enchiladas for a family of five.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They sat in comfortable silence as they ate, the room filled with the clinking of silverware on plates. It was only after consuming an additional helping of the entreé that Alastor felt the need to talk. "This is quite excellent. I have to admit, I am rather surprised at how well these came out!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Valentino snorted, tilting his head as he set his cutlery down. "What, ya thought I had a chef do my cookin' for me?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Actually, yes! I assumed that since you had a driver, that you had other workers as well." The crimson deer smiled, his nose crinkled up like he was telling a first rate joke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The towering pimp laughed at the soft jab, "Naw, I just have the driver for when I wanna focus on other things. Ya know, like cute radio hosts that find themselves in my car." Smirking, he wiggled his eyebrows at his now flushed guest. Alastor could be so easy to fluster. It was adorable.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fluffy ears atop the sinner's head twitched as their owner worked his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked to be mulling something over, if the furrow in his brow was any indication.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Somethin' wrong, Bambi~?" Valentino teased, enjoying the way that the object of his affections shifted in his seat, looking nervous.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I prepared something. For you. I wanted to wait until after dinner to show you." Alastor's flush deepened and spread, his skin starting to get closer in color to his attire.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The moth's eyes grew to the size of salad plates, his heartbeat picking up into a rushed gallop. Alastor had something for him. Whatever it was, he wanted it. Now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In quick and undignified succession, he opened his jaw horrendously wide and grabbed the last of his portion, shoving it into his mouth. There was a moment of clarity, where he felt horrified by how impolite he had been, but the giggle he received for his desperate attempt to finish dinner only encouraged him further.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Taking his cloth napkin, Valentino wiped up his mess and practically glided over into the living room. He could feel Alastor's static behind him as he went ahead and had a seat on his leather sectional.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Reclining into his spot, he rested his upper arms along the back of the couch. His face was split wide open by the smile he had. "Aight. Show me what ya got, Bambi."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Think of You Always</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Valentino's heart has been through plenty, but is it strong enough to withstand a direct attack on his restraint?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Welcome back, fellow sinners!<br/>I am finally "back on my bullshit" and I sure hope you're prepared for Alastor's surprise ♡</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Aight. Show me what ya got, Bambi."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Excited was an understatement. Every inch of his skin tingled, alive with anticipation. He didn't care if it was a demon heart wrapped in newspaper, the fact that Alastor was giving him anything at all was sending his mood into overdrive.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The deer demon paced briefly in the middle of the living room, smoothing his hands down his torso. That smile braced too high, he noted a hint of nervousness hiding in its corners. What did he have planned?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a snap, Alastor summoned his microphone from thin air, his shadow rising from the floor with much smaller ones as he cleared his throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Now. I have one rule, my four-handed-admirer. One you should be well acquainted with."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His cocked head was all the smiling sinner needed to continue, hands sliding up the microphone's shaft to tap it once, the lone eye opening. "No touching the entertainment."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oxygen sliced through his throat in a harsh breath, eyes widening at the unsaid promise of a performance. The minion flitted over to the wall, turning the lights lower in the room while the tiny ones looked to ready themselves.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We can do the tango, just for two</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In a moment's notice, it had returned to its master's side to give him a playful twirl, Alastor's lips moving unhindered as he sang. The voice was more inviting live, making him lean forward to catch every inflection thrown his way. Pitch black henchman pantomiming into the mic, its endless eyes bore into him intensely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Be a Valentino, just for you</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tail end of the lyric was emphasized with a kiss blown from Alastor's shadow, his heart stuttering and tripping over a few beats. Fuck, was he going to die tonight?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ooh love, ooh lover boy</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What're you doing tonight? Hey boy</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lifting his free hand up, the crimson enchanter languidly traced a heart in the air, his smile wavering with barely contained embarrassment. Alastor must've practiced this, but even he knew that performing for an audience of one was a very different experience. Especially when he could feel his own cheeks strain at how hard he was grinning.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Set my alarm, turn on my charm</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That's because I'm a good old-fashioned lover boy</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Those sharp shoes carried the handsome performer right up to him, Alastor sliding onto his lap and causing his pulse to shoot through the roof. Clutching the back of the couch, it took immense effort not to wrap the buck up in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even greater restraint was practiced when a slightly trembling hand slid up his torso to rest over the chaotic organ in his chest. Those bloody-sweet eyes widened just enough to show that the docile predator knew what effect he was causing, his smile baring more of his teeth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ooh, let me feel your heartbeat (grow faster, faster)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ooh, can you feel my love heat?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Come on and sit on my hot seat of love</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And tell me how do you feel right after all</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The lapful of gorgeous looked up at him, those killer digits continuing their journey up his throat to drag their way along the flesh to his chin, gripping with hardly any pressure.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'd like for you and I to go romancing</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Say the word, your wish is my command</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Void-dark arms wrapped around his neck from behind, cool shadow gracing the back of his head as the minion embraced him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ooh love, ooh lover boy</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What’re you doing tonight? Hey boy”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Write my letter, feel much better</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll use my fancy patter on the telephone</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pools a beautiful hue of carnage went downcast, Alastor's cheeks like freshly ripe cherries as he serenaded him. The figure nodded, as if encouraging its superior to keep on going.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When I'm not with you</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Think of you always</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I miss you (I miss those long hot summer nights)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When I'm not with you</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Think of me always</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Love you, love you</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Abruptly, the flustered deer hopped off his lap to stroll back to his starting point, the touchy silhouette of him peeling itself off to follow. With a precious glance over his shoulder, Alastor struck him through the heart like he was Cupid incarnate.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey boy where do you get it from?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey boy where did you go?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I learned my passion in the good old fashioned school of lover boys</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An instrumental break poured from the microphone, but the singer wasn't one to stand still during an act. Instead, he danced close with his charcoal replica. As they moved together, he could tell his jaw had slipped open. Though not technically the appropriate song, their bodies were definitely performing a cha-cha. It lasted only as long as the song allowed, unfortunately, Alastor pulling away when the lyrics began anew.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dining at the Ritz we'll meet at nine (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 o'clock)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I will pay the bill, you taste the wine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elegant spins breezed the light-footed deer over to the dining room table. He ran a hand along the surface as his steps slid in rhythm, pausing only to skim knuckles along the magnolias. An about-face turned him back to leisurely glide towards a darkened hallway, bedrooms tucked away out of sight.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Driving back in style, in my saloon will do quite nicely</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Just take me back to yours, that will be fine (come on and get it)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Insistent hands were pushing him off the couch without warning, Alastor's shadow nearly shoving him towards its owner. He felt compelled to listen, the red string of fate around his frenzied heart guiding him towards the other end. Moreso when the one making him ache so, was gazing expectantly with those wide doe-eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Ooh love (there he goes again)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ooh lover boy (Who's my good old-fashioned lover boy? ooh ooh)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What're you doing tonight, hey boy"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Everything's all right, just hold on tight</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That's because I'm a good old-fashioned (fashioned) lover boy</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Music trailed off from the mic, before the apparatus disappeared from the loose grip holding it. Stopping just in front of Alastor, he tried to hide how shallow his breathing had gotten, the performance wringing him of every ounce of control he had.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The cardinal sinner seemed to be just as worse for wear, his manic smile highlighted by an inferno in his stare. A razored tooth teased at the bottom lip, breathy giggle puffing out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Did...you like that?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Twin pairs of claws shot out to drag Alastor up against him, their chests aligning to harmonize the wild heartbeats. His laugh caressed the thrilled expression on the deer's face, two smaller arms anchoring around his neck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shut up and kiss me, Bambi..."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>~The song used for this chapter is "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy" by Queen~</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for taking the time to read this! &lt;333</p></blockquote></div></div>
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